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DEMOOEAOT  AED  LIBERTY 

VOL.  I» 


DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY 


BY 
WILLIAM  EDWAKD  HARTPOLE  LECKY 


VOLUME  I. 


NEW  EDITION 


NEW  YOEK 
LONGMANS,  GREEN,  AND  CO. 

LONDON    AND    BOMBAY 
1903 


COPTRIGHT,   1896,   BT 

LONGMANS,  GKEEN,  AND  CO. 

Copyright,  1898,  by 
LONGMANS,  GREEN,  AND  CO. 

All  rights  reserved 


First  Edition,  March,  1896 

Bkprinted  Mat,  Jtjnb  and  October,  1896 

September  and  December,  1896 

Februaby,  1900,   November,  1903 


Collegtt 
labraiy 

INTRODUCTION 


I  HAVE  availed  myself  of  the  opportunity  which  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  New  Edition  gives  to  revise  carefully  this 
book,  correcting  such  inaccuracies  as  I  have  been  able 
to  discover  and,  without  attempting  to  re-write  any 
portion  of  it,  introducing  into  the  text  or  notes  a  few 
lines  relating  to  controversies  which  were  pending  at  the 
time  of  its  original  publication  and  mentioning  salient 
facts  which  have  since  occurred  and  which  had  a  direct 
and  important  bearing  on  the  subjects  I  have  treated. 
The  task  of  following  in  detail  the  later  legislation  on 
those  subjects  in  the  many  different  legislatures  of  the 
world  must  be  left  to  other  writers,  but  it  is  not,  I 
think,  inappropriate  to  devote  a  few  pages  to  examining 
how  far  the  experience  of  the  last  three  years  has  con- 
firmed or  disproved  the  general  principles  I  have  laid 
down. 

In  some  of  its  most  melancholy  predictions  this  work 
has,  I  fear,  been  but  too  well  confirmed.  A  great  por- 
tion of  it  is  devoted  to  describing  the  declining  respect 
for  parliamentary  government  and  the  great  difiiculty 
of  reconciling  this  form  of  government  with  extreme 
democracy.  I  have  pointed  out  the  tendency  of 
modern  democratic  parliaments  to  break  up  more  and 
more  into  small  groups  with  the  inevitable  consequence 
of  enfeebling  the  executive  ;  destroying  or  dislocating 

v 


1S2344 


VI  INTRODUCTION 

the  party  system;  giving  a  disproportionate  power  to 
extreme,  self-seeking  and  skilfully  organised  minorities; 
turning  important  branches  of  legislation  into  some- 
thing little  better  than  a  competition  of  class  bribery, 
and  thus  lowering  the  tone  of  public  life  and  the  char- 
acter and  influence  of  public  men.  I  have  argued  that 
parliaments  of  this  type  are  much  less  truly  representa- 
tive of  the  best  elements  of  the  nation  than  parliaments 
established  on  a  less  democratic  basis;  that  they  are 
peculiarly  apt  to  lose  the  power  of  directing  and  guid- 
ing public  opinion,  and  that  except  in  countries  where 
a  long  experience  of  free  government  has  produced  an 
unusually  high  standard  of  political  intelligence  they 
are  very  unfit  to  exercise  uncontrolled  and  commanding 
power,  or  to  deal  efficiently  with  the  more  difficult  prob- 
lems of  politics. 

Less  than  three  years  have  passed  since  these  views 
were  put  forward,  yet  in  that  short  time  how  many 
illustrations  of  them  have  occurred !  Two  of  the  noblest 
works  of  statesmanship  accomplished  in  Europe  during 
the  second  half  of  the  nineteenth  century  were  the  unity 
of  Italy  and  the  transformation  and  consolidation  of  the 
Austrian  Empire  into  a  free  and  constitutional  power. 
Both  of  these  achievements  were  eminently  beneficial  to 
Europe  and  both  under  the  influence  of  high  suffrage 
parliaments  seemed  to  have  been  definitely  and  perma- 
nently accomplished.  'It  is  impossible  to  deny  that  the 
events  of  the  last  years  have  filled  the  well-wishers  both 
of  Italy  and  Austria  with  profound  misgiving.  The 
furious  and  sanguinary  riots  almost  amounting  to  civil 
war  that  have  taken  place  in  Italian  towns;  the  crush- 
ing and  ever-growing  weight  of  taxation;  the  steady 
growth  of  Italian  Socialism ;  and  the  manifest  incapacity 
of  a  democratic  parliament  to  command  the  confidence 
of  the  Italian  people  are  signs  that  it  is  impossible  to 


INTRODUCTION  VU 

misread,  while  in  the  Austrian  Empire  race  warfare  has 
broken  out  with  renewed  intensity,  and  the  Parliament 
at  Vienna  has  presented  a  scene  of  anarchy  and  riot 
which  seems  to  make  it  scarcely  possible  that  parliamen- 
tary government  on  its  present  basis  can  long  continue. 
In  the  French  Parliament  there  has  been  a  similar, 
though  less  prolonged,  outbreak;  another  general  elec- 
tion has  shown  the  incapacity  of  the  electorate  to  put 
an  end  to  the  system  of  small  and  isolated  groups  which 
makes  ministerial  stability  impossible,  and  public  opin- 
ion in  connection  with  the  Dreyfus  case  has  shown  ten- 
dencies in  which  good  observers  see  clearer  signs  of  na- 
tional decadence  than  in  anything  that  has  taken  place 
in  France  since  1870.  In  Germany  a  strong  execu- 
tive exercises  much  power  independently  of  parliamen- 
tary control,  but  there  too  another  general  election  has 
only  accentuated  that  division  into  many  groups  which 
reduces  the  Eeichstadt  to  comparative  impotence  and 
it  has  again  illustrated  two  of  the  most  ominous  charac- 
teristics of  continental  democracy,  the  increased  and  dis- 
proportionate political  power  of  Ultramontane  Cathol- 
icism and  the  steady  growth  of  Socialism. 

Other  influences  than  pure  democracy  have  no  doubt 
contributed  to  these  things,  but  no  competent  judge 
will  deny  that  the  connection  is  real  and  close,  nor  can 
it  be  doubted  that  they  have  greatly  increased  through- 
out Europe  the  distrust  of  parliamentary  institutions. 
On  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic  Brazil,  which  during 
the  period  of  its  empire  was  a  model  of  financial  sol- 
vency and  integrity,  has  passed,  as  was  predicted  in  this 
work,  and  without  the  pressure  of  any  foreign  war,  into 
the  ranks  of  defaulting  States. 

If  we  turn  to  the  great  English-speaking  democracies, 
we  find  ourselves  in  presence  of  communities  long  and 
thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  habits  of  freedom,  and 


VIU  INTRODUCTION' 

possessing  to  the  highest  degree  the  energy  of  character 
and  the  soundness  and  flexibility  of  judgment  that  are 
fitted  to  deal  with  the  great  problems  that  are  before 
them.  It  has  never  been  my  intention  to  write  of  them 
in  a  pessimistic  spirit,  though  I  have  endeavoured  to 
point  out  certain  evils  which  appear  to  me  to  be  grow- 
ing, and  which  seem  likely  to  lead  to  grave  difficulties 
and  transformations  in  the  future.  There  may  be 
some  difl'erence  of  opinion  about  the  justice  and  the 
necessity  of  the  war  which  the  United  States  has  re- 
cently waged  with  Spain,  but  there  can  be  no  question 
that  this  war  has  furnished  another  conspicuous  proof 
not  only  of  the  energy  and  resource,  but  also  of  the 
moderation,  self-restraint  and  humanity  of  the  Ameri- 
can people.  It  is  not  improbable  that  the  acquisition 
of  foreign  territory  may  react  powerfully  upon  their  in- 
ternal politics,  and  it  has  brought  them  face  to  face 
with  a  problem  of  great  interest  and  difficulty — the  pos- 
sibility of  a  pure  democracy,  without  any  previous  ex- 
perience, governing  successfully  an  alien  people  wholly 
unsuited  to  a  democratic  representative  system. 

It  cannot,  however,  be  denied  that  in  the  internal 
affairs  of  the  United  States  some  of  the  evils  pointed  out 
in  the  present  work  have,  since  its  publication,  rather 
increased  than  diminished.  The  admirable  provisions  in 
the  American  constitution  guaranteeing  the  security  of 
contracts  have  been  indirectly  menaced  on  the  largest 
scale  by  the  silver  party  which  advocates  the  payment  of 
all  debts  in  a  depreciated  coinage.  It  is  true  that  the  last 
Presidential  election  resulted  in  their  defeat  and  showed 
the  essential  soundness  and  integrity  of  American  opin- 
ion, but  it  is  impossible  to  observe  without  misgiving 
the  ascendency  which  that  party  has  obtained  not  only 
in  the  Southern  States  where  former  slavery  may  have 
depressed  the  moral  level,  but  also  in  the  Western  States 


INTRODUCTION  IX 

which  are  likely  to  gain  a  greatly  increased  power  in  the 
future.  It  is  not  indeed  difficult  to  explain  the  fact. 
The  rate  of  mortgages  on  laud  which  had  long  prevailed 
in  the  Western  States  was  so  far  higher  than  that  in  the 
Eastern  States  that  Avhen  agricultural  depression  came 
payment  became  impossible,  and  insolvent  farmers  not 
unnaturally  grasped  at  the  chance  of  extricating  them- 
selves from  their  difficulties,  and  it  is  certainly  not  sur- 
prising that  the  Southern  States  should  have  resented 
bitterly  the  enormous  scandal  and  injustice  of  the  Pen- 
sion list,  which  is  supported  from  the  taxation  of  the 
whole  country,  but  from  the  benefits  of  which  the  States 
inhabited  by  the  old  Confederates  are  excluded. 

Another  and  very  serious  event  has  been  the  triumph 
of  Tammany  in  New  York.  It  has  undoubtedly  thrown 
back  that  movement  towards  municipal  reform  which  has 
been  one  of  the  most  satisfactory  and  one  of  the  most 
needed  improvements  in  American  life.  It  is  true  that 
the  contest  was  not  solely,  though  it  was  very  largely  a 
contest  between  corruption  and  municipal  reform.  The 
Puritanical  spirit  which  irritated  the  German  population 
by  interfering  with  the  sale  of  beer  on  Sunday  introduced 
a  new  and  powerful  element  into  the  conflict.  But 
when  all  allowance  for  this  has  been  made,  it  is  impossi- 
ble to  deny  the  melancholy  significance  of  an  election 
which  placed  the  government  of  the  greatest  city  in 
America  in  the  hands  of  a  party  with  such  a  record  of 
gigantic,  notorious,  undisguised  corruption.  Nor,  as 
far  as  I  can  judge,  have  the  events  of  the  last  few  years 
at  all  diminished  the  belief  of  the  most  competent 
Americans  that  there  has  been  a  marked  decline  in  the 
character  of  the  American  senate. 

In  Great  Britain  the  course  of  things  has  been  some- 
what different.  Few  persons  who  had  watched  English 
politics  since  Mr,  Gladstone  dislocated  the  Liberal  party 


X  INTEODUCTION 

on  the  question  of  Home  Kule  doubted  that  the  Election 
of  1895  would  involve  the  Home  Rule  party  in  disaster, 
but  very  few  persons  accurately  measured  the  extent  and 
the  duration  of  the  disaster.  It  was  not  simply  that  a 
Unionist  Government  came  into  power  with  a  larger 
majority  than  that  of  any  other  Government  since  1832. 
The  Opposition  which  confronted  it  was  so  divided,  dis- 
integrated and  discredited  that  it  was  in  reality  far 
weaker  than  might  appear  from  its  nominal  numerical 
strength.  In  the  three  sessions  that  have  elapsed  since 
the  election,  the  dominant  power  has  committed  several 
mistakes  and  sometimes  shown  much  weakness,  but,  in 
spite  of  many  predictions,  the  unity  of  the  party  re- 
mains unbroken  and  unforced,  Avhile  its  opponents  have 
hitherto  totally  failed  to  attain  any  real  or  even  apparent 
consolidation.  There  has  been,  indeed,  scarcely  any 
organised  opposition,  and  the  whole  working  of  party 
government  has  been  enfeebled  by  the  fact.  The  chief 
difficulties  of  the  Government  have  been  the  obstruction 
of  small  groups  who  knew  that  under  existing  conditions 
the  only  possible  form  of  efficacious  opposition  was  the 
waste  of  parliamentary  time,  and  the  difficulties  of  man- 
agement and  arrangement  that  arise  out  of  the  incapacity 
of  the  front  Opposition  Bench  to  answer  for  the  many 
divergent  groups  behind  them.  There  has  been  at  the 
same  time  a  great  revival  of  commercial  prosperity, 
accompanied  by  great  disquiet  in  foreign  affairs,  and 
both  of  these  influences  have  contributed  to  turn  the 
minds  of  ^men  from  internal  politics.  The  result  of  all 
this  has  been  a  period  of  parliamentary  peace  such  as  has 
not  existed  in  England  since  the  death  of  Lord  Palm- 
erston  and  it  has  been  strengthened  by  the  generally 
good  relations  existing  between  the  two  front  benches 
in  the  House. 

One  of  its  consequences  has  been  that  some  of  the  ten- 


INTRODUCTION  XI 

dencies  of  Democracy  which  have  been  most  dwelt  on  in 
the  present  work  have,  for  a  time,  almost  disappeared. 
The  group  system  certainly  does  not  now  dominate  in 
English  politics,  for  the  Government  have  been  able  to 
count  upon  a  vast  and  substantially  homogeneous  ma- 
jority. The  pressure  of  the  Caucus,  which  was  such  a 
great  and  growing  force  in  the  Parliaments  that  pre- 
ceded 1895,  has  manifestly  diminished.  No  one  can 
complain  in  England  of  a  feeble  executive  and  an  un- 
stable government,  and  close  observers  of  parliamentary 
life  seem  agreed  that  one  of  its  most  characteristic  re- 
cent features  has  been  the  greatly  increased  power  of 
the  Cabinet.  Like  most  changes,  this  has  been  largely 
influenced  by  personal  character.  Whatever  criticism 
may  be  passed  on  the  later  leadership  of  the  House,  no 
one  can  question  that  it  has  been  carried  on  with  singu- 
lar tact,  and  in  a  spirit  of  great  courtesy  and  conciliation, 
both  to  the  Opposition  at  large  and  to  the  able,  and  for 
the  most  part  moderate,  men  who  are  its  leaders.  Mis- 
takes have  sometimes  been  made,  by-elections  have  been 
occasionally  lost,  ministerial  measures  have  been  severely 
criticised  on  both  sides  of  the  House,  but  on  the  whole 
the  Government  have  been  able  to  do  almost  absolutely 
what  they  like,  and  parliament  and  the  country  have 
acquiesced  with  very  little  protest  in  what  they  do. 

If  this  state  of  things  were  likely  to  prove  permanent, 
much  that  is  said  in  the  present  work  about  the  ten- 
dency of  democracy  to  impair  the  stability  of  govern- 
ment and  the  working  of  parliamentary  institutions 
might  appear  inapplicable  to  England,  Nobody,  how- 
ever, can  suppose  that  the  present  enormous  dispropor- 
tion of  parties  can  continue,  and  the  law  which  is  com- 
ing to  be  popularly  known  as  the  law  of  the  pendulum 
will  continue  to  work.  It  means  that  in  England  since 
the  great  lowering  of  the  suffrage  a  very  large  body  of 


Xll  INTRODUCTION 

voters  will  vote  alternately  for  the  opposite  parties,  not 
simply  because  they  desire  new  lines  of  policy;  not  sim- 
ply because  they  are  influenced  by  the  mistakes  which 
the  existing  government  has  committed,  by  the  inter- 
ests which  it  has  injured  or  offended,  or  by  the  deserved 
or  undeserved  misfortunes  that  have  occurred  during  its 
reign,  but  also  because  they  are  wholly  indifferent  to 
party  politics  and  think  the  turn  about  system  the  most 
fair.  The  existence  of  a  large  body  of  voters  in  English 
constituencies  who  vote  habitually  on  this  principle  and 
justify  themselves  by  saying  "  these  men  have  had  their 
innings,  it  is  now  the  turn  of  the  others  "  is  clearly  rec- 
ognised by  practical  politicians,  though  such  voters  are 
not  common  either  in  Scotland  or  Ireland.  Political 
prediction  is  of  all  things  the  most  fallible,  but  the 
strong  probability  appears  to  be  that,  before  many  years, 
a  government  resting  upon  a  small  majority  will  be 
again  in  power.  Under  such  circumstances  the  disin- 
tegration of  one  side  of  the  House  into  a  number  of 
small  groups  cannot  fail  to  have  a  great  effect  on  Eng- 
lish politics. 

Another  fact  which  is  very  conspicuous  in  our  present 
parliament  is  the  complete  reconciliation  of  the  Union- 
ist and  Conservative  party  with  Democracy.  The  old 
idea  of  a  good  Conservative  government  was  a  govern- 
ment which  systematically  discouraged  great  organic 
changes,  and  which  aimed  at  a  wise,  frugal,  moderate 
and  skilful  administration  of  affairs  on  the  existing 
lines,  remedying  such  minor  defects  in  our  institutions 
as  experience  might  disclose,  but  putting  aside  all  ex- 
periment and  leaving  to  its  opponents  all  measures  of 
wide  and  ambitious  reform.  The  modern  idea  of  a  Con- 
servative government  which  takes  its  origin  in  a  great 
degree  from  the  policy  of  Disraeli  in  1867  is  essentially 
diffei-ont.     It  is  to  take  up  one  by  one  the  great  demo- 


INTRODUCTION  Xlll 

cratic  questions  which  seem  manifestly  impending  and 
to  solve  these  questions  on  a  broad  democratic  basis, 
with  such  conditions  as  may  safeguard  the  special  in- 
terests of  which  a  Conservative  Government  is  the  trus- 
tee. Democracy  is  accepted  as  an  inevitable  fact.  The 
fear  or  distrust  of  it  which  so  long  prevailed  in  Con- 
servative ranks  has  in  a  great  degree  passed  away.  It 
has  been  discovered  that  the  Church,  the  Aristocracy 
and  the  landed  interests,  if  they  descend  into  the  arena 
are  fully  able  to  hold  their  own  in  the  competition  for 
popular  favour,  and  that  some  of  the  tendencies  and  doc- 
trines which  are  specially  associated  with  Conservative 
traditions  are  peculiarly  fitted  to  blend  with  democratic 
politics.  And  the  result  is  that  on  questions  of  De- 
mocracy there  is  no  longer  a  party  whose  business  is  to 
initiate  and  a  party  whose  business  is  to  restrain.  Within 
wide  limits  the  two  parties  move  on  the  same  lines,  and 
are  more  like  competitors  in  a  race  than  adversaries  in 
the  field.  The  old  ideal  of  conservative  policy  is  indeed 
seldom  likely  to  be  realised  except  under  a  weak  radical 
government  confronted  and  controlled  by  a  powerful 
opposition.  Few  graver  experiments  in  democracy  have 
been  made  than  the  Irish  local  Government  Act  of  the 
last  session,  which  has  placed  the  whole  local  govern- 
ment of  a  country  which  is  profoundly  disaffected  to 
British  rule  and  which  returns  more  than  eighty  Home 
Rule  members  to  parliament  on  the  basis  of  the  parlia- 
mentary franchise.  It  was  a  measure  introduced  in  ful- 
filment of  distinct  pledges  and  it  contains  very  skilful 
provisions  intended  to  protect  existing  interests.  But 
when  all  is  said,  it  means  a  great  transfer  of  power  and 
influence  from  the  loyal  to  the  disloyal  and  it  goes  in 
the  direction  of  democracy  far  beyond  anything  that  a 
few  years  ago  would  have  been  accepted  either  by  the 
Conservatives  or  by  the  moderate  Liberals. 


XIV  INTRODUCTION 

Much  the  same  thing  may  be  said  of  the  Industrial 
Legislation  of  the  present  parliament.  In  this  respect, 
indeed,  the  Tory  party  has  changed  less  than  its  oppo- 
nents. The  Tudor  regulations  of  industry  which  in 
part  survived  till  the  present  century  were  chiefly  asso- 
ciated with  this  party  and  it  bore  a  larger  part  than  its 
opponents  in  the  enactment  of  the  early  factory  laws, 
while  the  Manchester  School  which  desired  to  contract 
to  the  utmost  the  limits  of  Government  interference 
with  industry,  was  long  regarded  as  the  purest  type  of 
liberal  orthodoxy.  On  both  sides  of  the  House,  how- 
ever, the  policy  of  interfering  with,  regulating  and  pro- 
tecting labour  by  legislative  enactment  continues  with 
an  uninterrupted  popularity  and  the  Compensation  for 
Accidents  Act  of  1896  has  in  some  ways  gone  further  in 
this  direction  than  any  preceding  measure.  The  Em- 
ployers' Liability  Act  of  1880  granted  compensation  to 
all  workmen  who  suffered  from  accidents  due  to  the 
negligence  of  the  employer,  of  his  superintendent  or  of 
any  one  whose  orders  the  workmen  were  bound  to  obey. 
The  recent  Act,  while  leaving  the  workman  at  liberty 
to  claim  his  compensation  if  he  pleases  under  the  Act 
of  1880,  provides  that  in  some  of  the  most  dangerous 
employments,  he  has  an  absolute  right  to  compensation 
from  his  employer  in  all  cases  of  accidents  "  arising  out 
of  and  in  the  course  of  the  employment"  and  not  due 
to  his  "serious  and  wilful  misconduct."  The  element 
of  negligence  is  altogether  eliminated.  It  is  not  neces- 
sary to  show  that  the  accident  is  even  in  the  smallest 
degree  the  fault  of  the  employer  or  of  any  one  in  his  ser- 
vice. If,  for  example,  an  earthquake  has  destroyed  a 
mine  and  killed  or  wounded  the  miners  employed  in  it, 
the  claim  of  these  men  or  their  representatives  to  com- 
pensation from  the  employer  is  indefeasible.  The  mea- 
sure does  not  apply  merely  to  industrial  employments 


INTRODUCTION  XV 

established  after  its  enactment,  but  extends  to  those 
which  had  long  been  established  under  the  system  of  free 
contracts,  and  the  masters  and  men  have  only  the  small- 
est power  of  contracting  themselves  out  of  its  provisions*. 
The  liberty  of  contracting  out,  for  which  the  Conserva- 
tive party  had  so  strenuously  contended,  is  indeed  not 
formally  taken  away,  but  it  is  only  granted  in  cases  in 
which  the  chief  Registrar  of  Friendly  Societies  has  cer- 
tified that  the  master  has  granted  to  the  persons  in  his 
employment  a  scheme  of  compensation  not  less  favour- 
able than  that  provided  in  the  Act.  The  whole  matter 
is  thus  taken  out  of  the  domain  of  free  contract;  the 
employer  loses  his  power  of  deciding  on  what  terms  or 
conditions  he  will  grant  employment  to  his  workmen, 
and  by  a  provision  which  was  not  either  in  the  Act  of 
1880  or  in  the  Common  law,  in  case  of  the  death  of  the 
employer  the  claim  for  compensation  arising  out  of  the 
Act  will  stand  against  his  estate. 

It  is  obvious  how  largely  such  a  measure  extends  the 
area  of  State  intervention  in  industry.  By  excluding 
all  consideration  of  negligence  as  the  ground  for  com- 
pensation, it  introduces  a  new  principle,  and  a  principle 
which  is  certain  to  grow.  A  scale  of  compensation  is 
laid  down,  but  as  it  rests  on  no  definite  principle  it  is 
always  possible  that  it  may  be  raised.  The  Act  applies 
to  railways,  mines,  docks,  factories  and  some  other  in- 
dustries in  which  mechanical  forces  are  employed,  but 
it  can  scarcely  be  questioned  that  it  is  likely  to  be  ex- 
tended to  other  industries.  The  measure  undoubtedly 
in  the  first  instance  confers  an  immense  benefit  on  the 
British  workmen,  but  if  the  burden  it  imposes  on  native 
industries  proves  excessive  it  must  end  by  driving  many 
of  them  from  employment,  and  its  success  or  failure  de- 
pends mainly  upon  the  rate  at  which  it  will  be  possible 
for  the  employer  to  insure  himself  against  the  new 


XVI  INTEODUCTION 

claim — a  question  on  which  it  is  still  too  early  to  pro- 
nounce. It  cannot,  however,  be  doubted  that  this  mea- 
sure may  easily  lead  to  another  and  very  grave  extension 
*of  State  obligation  and  responsibility.  The  tendency 
of  modern  industry  is  to  take  more  and  more  the  form 
of  limited  liability  companies,  and  this  tendency  the 
new  law  will  certainly  accelerate.  If,  however,  some 
great  colliery  accident  brings  down  a  ruinous  claim  for 
compensation  upon  such  a  company,  it  will  probably  go 
into  liquidation,  and  a  great  body  of  workmen  will  be 
deprived  of  their  promised  compensation.  Can  it  be 
doubted  that  under  such  circumstances  the  demand  for 
State  Insurance  will  speedily  arise  ? 

It  is  a  significant  fact  that  this  most  important  mea- 
sure was  carried  with  the  concurrence  of  both  of  the 
great  parties  in  the  State.  The  representatives  of  men- 
aced interests,  it  is  true,  opposed  it,  but  the  bulk  of  the 
Opposition  was  distinctly  favourable  to  it.  Their  chief 
criticism  was  that  it  did  not  go  far  enough ;  that  impor- 
tant industries  and  large  bodies  of  workmen  remained 
excluded  from  its  scope;  that  it  retained  some  faint 
shadow  of  the  liberty  of  contracting  out;  that  the  credit 
of  it  belonged  more  to  their  own  party  than  to  the  Gov- 
ernment. The  great  majority  of  both  parties  were 
thoroughly  committed  by  this  system  of  legislative  pro- 
tection of  workmen  at  the  cost  of  the  employer  and  under 
such  circumstances  efficacious  resistance  was  impossible. 
One  of  the  most  prominent  members  of  the  Opposition 
observed  that  it  was  a  gratifying  fact  that  from  no  sec- 
tion of  the  house  was  the  old  language  about  grand- 
motherly legislation  interfering  with  the  industry  of 
grown-up  men  any  longer  heard.  So  completely,  for  the 
present,  have  the  doctrines  of  the  Manchester  School 
been  eclipsed.  Whether  the  report  of  the  recent  com- 
mission alleging  that  there  are  insuperable  objections  to 


INTRODUCTION  XVH 

the  still  larger  scheme  of  old  age  pensions  will  lead  to  an 
abandonment  of  that  measure  is  a  question  which  still 
lies  in  the  future. 

The  same  uniformity  of  principle  exists  to  a  large  ex- 
tent on  questions  of  finance.  It  is  true  that  the  present 
government  has  done  something  to  give  special  finan- 
cial relief  to  interests  which  it  specially  represents. 
The  long  period  of  agricultural  depression  has  been  met 
on  the  Continent  by  duties  favouring  native  agriculture, 
but  the  free  trade  policy  of  England  makes  such  duties 
impossible;  and  in  later  English  politics  the  interests  of 
the  country  and  of  agriculture  have,  in  a  large  degree, 
been  sacrificed  to  the  interests  of  the  towns  and  of 
manufactures,  which  under  this  legislation  have  at- 
tained an  unexampled  prosperity.  The  present  Govern- 
ment has  done  something  to  mitigate  this  injustice  by  a 
slight  remodelling  of  taxation  in  favour  of  agriculture, 
and  it  has  in  the  same  spirit  given  additional  assistance 
from  the  Consolidated  fund  to  the  Voluntary  Schools 
which  are  chiefly  Church  of  England  and  denomina- 
tional. These  Schools  are  manifestly  the  most  popular 
and  efficient  in  the  country  districts,  as  the  Board 
Schools  are  the  most  jjopular  and  efficient  in  the  towns, 
and  the  maintenance  of  the  two  distinct  types  of  educa- 
tion meets  the  wishes  of  a  very  large  proportion  of  the 
English  people.  As  long  as  free  education  was  confined 
to  the  children  of  paupers,  the  Voluntary  Schools, 
though  unsupported  by  the  rates,  were  able  without 
much  difficulty  to  meet  the  competition  of  the  Board 
Schools.  The  establishment,  however,  of  free  educa- 
tion in  the  Board  Schools,  and  the  introduction  into 
them  of  higher  standards  of  education  and  higher  scales 
of  salaries,  as  well  as  the  increased  requirements  of  the 
Education  Board,  had  made  it  impossible  for  schools 
which  could  not  fall  back  upon  the  rates  to  withstand 


XV  111  INTRODUCTION 

tlie  competition  of  rate  supported  schools.  An  addi- 
tioual  grant,  chiefly  though  not  exclusively  going  to  the 
Voluntary  Schools,  gives  them  at  least  a  chance  of  pro- 
longed existence. 

But  the  most  important  recent  change  in  our  financial 
system  continues  substantially  unchanged.  Th ere  could 
hardly  be  a  greater  departure  from  what  used  to  be 
called  orthodox  political  economy  than  the  death  duties 
of  Sir  William  Harcourt.  The  first  principle  of  taxation 
according  to  the  older  economists,  is  that  it  qught  to 
fall  upon  income  and  not  upon  capital.  In  England 
one  of  the  two  largest  direct  taxes  annually  raised  is  now 
a  highly  graduated  tax  falling  directly  upon  capital.  It 
was  introduced  by  a  weak  radical  government  which, 
perceiving  the  impossibility  of  carrying  any  great  radi- 
cal measure  through  the  House  of  Lords,  selected  as  its 
chief  innovation  a  financial  measure  over  which  the 
House  of  Lords  had  no  control.  The  Government, 
however,  which  followed  was  obliged  to  accept  it.  It 
Avas  said  that  it  brought  an  enormous  sum  into  the  Ex- 
chequer; that  with  the  immense  increase  of  Naval  ex- 
penditure it  was  impossible  to  dispense  with  such  a  sum; 
that  in  the  great  probability  of  party  governments  alter- 
nating with  each  general  election,  each  government 
must  accept  in  its  bulk  the  legislation  of  its  predecessor, 
though  it  may  do  something  to  modify  or  mitigate  its 
details.  Some  slight  mitigations  relating  to  works  of 
historic  interest  and  to  the  jointures  of  Avidows  have 
been  introduced  and  carried,  but  in  its  broad  lines  the 
financial  system  of  the  former  government  remains.  Its 
most  oppressive  features  are  that  there  is  no  time  limit, 
so  that  in  the  not  improbable  event  of  two,  three  or 
even  four  owners  of  a  great  property  dying  in  rapid  suc- 
cession, the  tax  has  the  effect  of  absolute  confiscation, 
and  that  no  distinction  is  drawn  between  property  which 


iNTRODUCTION  xix 

produces  income  and  is  easily  realisable  and  the  kinds  of 
property  which  produce  little  or  no  income  and  which 
it  is  difficult  or  impossible  to  realise.  The  strongest 
Government  of  our  day  has  done  nothing  to  remedy 
these  defects.  It  has,  however,  extended  the  principle 
of  graduation  in  the  income  tax  by  the  partial  exemp- 
tion of  incomes  up  to  £700  a  year.  It  has  extended  to 
new  classes  of  tenancies  the  Irish  Land  legislation  which 
is  the  most  evident  instance  of  confiscatory  violation  of 
contract  in  modern  legislation,  thus  convincing  the  Irish 
people  that  there  is  no  finality  in  the  land  question  and 
that  no  government,  however  powerful  and  however 
Conservative,  can  be  trusted  to  abstain  from  tampering 
with  the  rights  of  property  in  Ireland ;  and  it  has  abol- 
ished without  compensation  the  saleable  value  of  next 
presentations  in  the  Church — a  kind  of  property  which 
probably  ought  never  to  have  been  created,  but  which 
was  at  least  fully  recognised  by  law.  This  last  measure 
was  defended  by  arguments  which  would  be  equally  ap- 
plicable to  the  sale  of  advowsons.  It  will  appear  espe- 
cially significant  of  the  tendency  of  the  times  when  it  is 
remembered  that  in  Gladstone's  Act  disendowing  the 
Irish  Church,  the  pecuniary  value  of  lay  Church  patron- 
age was  fully  recognised  and  its  owners  were  amply  com- 
pensated. 

It  is,  I  think,  evident  from  these  things  that  the  kind 
of  tendencies  which  it  is  the  object  of  the  present  work 
to  criticise,  are  still  dominant  in  England  and  that  it 
would  be  a  great  mistake  to  suppose  that  the  change 
which  has  taken  place  in  the  disposition  of  parties  has 
seriously  affected  them.  For  good  or  for  ill  they  are 
likely,  for  a  considerable  time  to  come,  to  be  the  regu- 
lating influences  in  English  politics. 

Since  this  book  was  originally  published,  a  great  fig- . 


XX  INTRODUCTION 

lire,  closely  connected  with  many  of  the  subjects  on 
which  I  have  written,  has  passed  away.  The  time  has 
not  yet  come  when  the  definite  verdict  of  history  can 
be  pronounced  upon  the  work  and  upon  the  highly 
complex  character  of  Mr.  Gladstone,  but  some  passages 
in  this  book  are  so  little  in  harmony  with  the  language 
of  indiscriminating  eulogy  which  followed  his  death, 
that  a  few  pages  on  the  subject  can  hardly  be  thought 
misplaced.  In  some  respects  I  believe  posterity  is  likely 
to  underrate  him.  No  one  who  judged  only  from  his 
published  speeches  could  fully  appreciate  his  extraordi- 
nary rhetorical  powers.  In  mere  literary  form  those 
speeches  rank  far  below  those  of  Bright  or  Canning,  or 
of  some  of  the  great  orators  of  France,  and  the  reader 
will  look  in  vain  in  them  for  the  profound  and  original 
thought,  the  gleams  of  genuine  imagination,  the  pas- 
sages of  highly  finished  and  perennial  beauty  that  place 
the  speeches  of  Burke  among  the  classics  of  the  lan- 
guage. There  was,  indeed,  a  curious  contrast  between 
Gladstone  and  Burke.  Both  of  them  carried  into  po- 
litical questions  a  passion  seldom  found  among  States- 
men, and  also  a  range  and  versatility  of  knowledge  that 
far  surpassed  that  of  their  contemporaries,  but  Glad- 
stone was  incomparably  superior  to  Burke  in  the  power 
of  moving  great  masses  of  men,  dominating  in  parlia- 
mentary debate,  catching  the  tone  and  feeling  of  every 
audience  he  addressed,  and  carrying  an  immediate  issue. 
On  the  other  hand  the  texture  of  his  intellect  was  com- 
monplace. The  subtleties  and  ingenuities  of  distinction 
in  which  he  was  inexhaustibly  fertile  were  nearly  always 
the  mere  subtleties  of  debate.  His  long  and  involved 
sentences  and  the  extreme  redundancy  of  his  language 
scarcely  impaired  the  effect  of  his  speeches  when  they 
were  set  off  by  his  clear,  powerful  and  musical  voice  and 
by  his  admirable  skill  iu  enunciation  and  emphasis,  but 


INTRODUCTION  XXI 

to  the  reader  they  will  often  appear  intolerably  verbose. 
He  seemed  sometimes  to  be  labouring  to  show  with  how 
many  words  a  simple  thought  could  be  expressed  or  ob- 
scured, and  with  few  exceptions — those  being  chiefly  on 
finance — even  his  most  effective  speeches  will  be  seldom 
found  to  carry  with  them  any  great  instruction.  Even 
as  an  orator  he  was  not  indisputably  the  first.  Many, 
if  not  most  of  the  best  judges  placed  Bright  in  his 
greatest  speeches  on  a  higher  level,  and  old  men  like 
Lord  Eussell  and  Lord  Brougham  used  to  maintain  that 
in  pure  oratory  Plunket  and  Canning  soared  to  a  greater 
height  than  any  of  their  successors. 

But  it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  for  one  great  speech 
made  by  Bright,  Gladstone  must  have  made  fifty,  and 
he  had  a  range  and  variety  of  rhetorical  powers  which 
neither  Canning  nor  Plunket  could  approach.  Not  a 
little  of  his  influence  was  due  to  physical  gifts  which  in 
a  great  orator  as  in  a  great  actor  count  for  much.  Pitt, 
Fox  and  Burke  were  painted  by  the  best  portrait  paint- 
ers that  England  has  produced,  but  I  much  question 
whether  a  stranger  who  saw  their  portraits  with  no 
knowledge  of  the  men  they  represented  would  recognise 
in  any  one  of  them  a  man  of  pre-eminent  power.  No 
one  could  stand  before  a  good  portrait  of  Gladstone 
without  feeling  that  he  was  in  the  presence  of  an  ex- 
traordinary man.  Yet  the  greatest  painter  could  only 
represent  one  of  the  many  moods  of  that  ever-changing 
and  most  expressive  countenance.  Few  men  have  had 
so  many  faces,  and  the  wonderful  play  of  his  features 
contributed  very  largely  to  the  effectiveness  of  his  speak- 
ing. It  was  a  countenance  eminently  fitted  to  express 
enthusiasm,  pathos,  profound  melancholy,  commanding 
power  and  lofty  disdain;  there  were  moments  when  it 
could  take  an  expression  of  intense  cunning,  and  it  often 
darkened  into  a  scowl  of  passionate  anger.     In  repose  it 


XXll  INTRODUCTION 

did  not  seem  to  me  good.  With  its  tightly  compressed 
lips  and  fierce,  abstracted  gaze  it  seemed  to  express  not 
only  extreme  determination,  but  also  great  vindictiveness, 
a  quality,  indeed,  by  no  means  wanting  in  his  nature, 
though  it  was,  I  think,  more  frequently  directed  against 
classes  or  parties  than  against  individuals.  He  had  a 
wonderful  eye — a  bird  of  prey  eye — fierce,  luminous  and 
restless.  "  When  he  differed  from  you,"  a  great  friend 
and  admirer  of  his  once  said  to  me,  "  there  were  mo- 
ments when  he  would  give  you  a  glance  as  if  he  would 
stab  you  to  the  heart."  There  was  something,  indeed, 
in  his  eye  in  which  more  than  one  experienced  judge 
saw  dangerous  symptoms  of  possible  insanity.  Its  pierc- 
ing glance  added  greatly  to  his  eloquence,  and  was,  no 
doubt,  one  of  the  chief  elements  of  that  strong  per- 
sonal magnetism  which  he  undoubtedly  possessed.  Its 
power  was,  I  believe,  partly  due  to  a  rare  physical 
peculiarity.  Boehm,  the  sculptor,  who  was  one  of  the 
best  observers  of  the  human  face  I  have  ever  known, 
and  who  saw  much  of  Gladstone  and  carefully  studied 
him  for  a  bust,  was  convinced  of  this.  He  told  me  that 
he  was  once  present  when  an  altercation  between  him 
and  a  Scotch  professor  took  place  and  that  the  latter 
started  up  from  the  table  to  make  an  angry  reply  when 
he  suddenly  stopped  as  if  paralysed  or  fascinated  by  the 
glance  of  Gladstone,  and  Boehm  noticed  that  the  pupil 
of  Gladstone's  eye  was  visibly  dilating  and  the  eyelid 
round  the  whole  circle  of  the  eye  drawing  back,  as  may 
be  seen  in  a  bird  of  prey. 

In  conversation,  as  well  as  in  public,  these  physical 
gifts  added  greatly  to  his  impressiveness.  He  spoke 
with  slow,  constant  emphasis, — sometimes,  indeed,  in 
private  conversation  too  like  a  regular  speech.  I  have 
never  known  any  one  who  by  look,  gesture,  emphasis 
and  manner  could  make  a  sentence  which  was  common- 


I]!fTRODUCTION  XXIU 

place  in  thought,  knowledge  and  even  in  language  ap- 
pear for  a  moment  so  impressive. 

There  are  few  kinds  of  eloquence  which  he  did  not 
possess.  He  excelled  in  noble,  dignified  declamation 
appealing  to  the  loftiest  motives.  No  English  politician 
indeed  so  frequently  introduced  into  the  perorations  of 
his  political  and  even  party  speeches  God,  duty,  honour, 
justice,  moral  obligation,  Divine  guidance,  and  no  one 
who  knows  the  English  people  will  wonder  that  this 
kind  of  speaking  stirred  a  fibre  of  enthusiasm  that  runs 
very  deeply  through  the  English  nature.  He  was  also 
supremely  great  in  what  may  be  called  ornamental  or 
decorative  speaking.  In  the  language  of  compliment, 
in  tributes  to  departed  statesmen,  on  the  occasion  of 
some  great  public  function  his  speeches  were  almost 
always  perfect.  He  scarcely  ever  failed  to  strike  the 
true  note  and  he  never  deviated  into  bad  taste.  He  was 
pre-eminently  a  gentleman,  and  although  in  public  life 
he  could  be  in  a  high  degree  imperious,  and  intolerant 
of  opposition,  he  never  descended  to  scurrility  and  very 
seldom  to  personal  invective,  and  in  his  language  and 
his  manner  he  always  upheld  the  dignity  of  the  House 
of  Commons.  In  after-dinner  speeches  and  in  the  kin- 
dred forms  of  oratory,  he  was  less  successful.  Wit, 
humour,  the-  light  touch,  the  tone  of  good-natured, 
well-bred  banter  in  which  Disraeli  excelled,  were  not 
among  his  many  gifts.  "It  is  a  great  impediment  to 
public  business,"  Disraeli  once  said,  "that  Mr.  Glad- 
stone cannot  be  made  to  understand  a  joke."  Some- 
times, however,  in  his  lighter  speeches  and  often  in  his 
conversation  he  would  relate  reminiscences  of  his  early 
years,  and  he  could  do  this  with  an  inimitable  charm 
and  without  the  slightest  tinge  of  egotism. 

In  the  eloquence  of  elaborate  statements  and  especially 
in  his  financial  statements,  he  had  no  contemporary 


XXIV  INTRODUCTION 

rival.  The  younger  Pitt  and  also  Sir  Robert  Peel  were 
supreme  masters  of  the  art  of  financial  statement,  but  it 
is  difficult  to  believe  that  any  one  can  have  surpassed 
Gladstone  in  the  art  of  arranging  great  masses  of  com- 
plicated facts,  illuminating  financial  details  by  happy, 
well  told  historical  episodes  and  carrying  his  audience 
with  him  through  all  the  technicalities  of  a  budget 
speech.  The  only  real  criticism  that  could  be  made  on 
these  speeches  is  that  they  were  apt  to  be  inordinately 
long — on  one  or  two  occasions  extending  to  five  hours. 
It  cannot  be  doubted  that  a  very  great  part  of  his  finan- 
cial reputation  was  due  not  to  the  accuracy  of  his  fore- 
casts, which  often  proved  remarkably  erroneous;  nor  to 
the  wisdom  of  his  financial  measures,  which  were  some- 
times very  disputable,  but  to  the  almost  unsurpassed 
rhetorical  skill  with  which  he  introduced  them. 

He  was  also  a  debater  of  the  very  highest  order.  He 
made  his  mark  in  this  field  from  the  moment  when, 
fresh  from  the  Oxford  Union,  he  entered  the  House, 
though  for  many  years  he  was  not  regarded  as  the  great- 
est. The  reader  will  remember  the  emphatic  language 
in  which  Macaulay  assigned  this  place  to  Lord  Stanley, 
and  as  far  as  we  can  judge  there  were  qualities  of  a  de- 
bater in  which  Charles  Fox  must  have  surpassed  all  suc- 
cessors. But  in  complete  command  of  spontaneous  and 
well-chosen  language,  in  the  power  of  following  a  long 
speech  but  just  delivered,  point  by  point,  and  argument 
by  argument;  in  quickness  of  argument;  in  subtlety  of 
distinction,  in  abundance  and  readiness  of  knowledge  he 
was  unrivalled.  His  knowledge,  though  not  always  ac- 
curate, was  very  great,  but  what  struck  men  most  was 
that  it  seemed  always  available  at  the  moment.  This 
was  also  one  of  the  great  gifts  of  Macaulay.  "  Other 
men,"  Dean  Milman  once  said  to  me,  "  might  have  a 
larger    balance    at    their    banker's — Macaulay    always 


INTRODUCTION  XXV 

seemed    to  have    his  whole  fortune  in    his  breeches 
pocket." 

The  same  thing  was  eminently  true  of  Gladstone,  and 
it  was  accompanied  by  a  skill  in  drawing  subtle  distinc- 
tions and  refinements  of  argument  which  was  immensely 
useful  in  debate.  This,  which  was  one  of  the  most 
marked  characteristics  of  his  mind,  was  probably  in 
great  degree  fostered  by  the  circumstances  of  his  educa- 
tio)i.  It  is  said  to  be  a  specially  Oxford  gift,  and  Ox- 
ford left  its  impression  very  deeply  on  his  mind.  It 
never  was  carried  to  a  higher  point  at  Oxford  than  in 
the  early  days  of  the  Tractarian  movement,  and  at  the 
time  when  Newman  was  its  most  splendid  intellect. 
Gladstone,  it  is  true,  had  left  Oxford  just  before  the 
Tractarian  movement  was  formally  started,  but  it  rose 
to  its  height  during  his  early  manhood,  and  in  those 
years  it  profoundly  influenced  him.  Though  already  in 
Parliament,  he  found  time  to  write  two  elaborate  books 
on  Church  questions;  his  most  successful  speeches  were 
connected  with  them  and  he  was  for  some  years  much 
more  really  absorbed  in  theological  speculation  than  in 
secular  politics.  The  early  Tractarian  school  was  a 
great  school  of  casuistry.  The  object  of  its  leading  in- 
tellects was  to  maintain  by  subtle  distinctions  an  unnat- 
ural and,  in  truth,  an  untenable  position;  to  maintain 
in  a  .Church  which  denounced  the  central  doctrine  of 
the  Church  of  Rome  as  blasphemous  and  idolatrous  and 
which  for  more  than  a  century  had  been  at  deadly  war 
with  that  Church,  doctrines  which  on  most  essential 
points  were  truly  Roman  or  were  only  divided  from  Ro- 
man doctrines  by  the  finest  shades  of  difference.  Hence 
the  distinctions  drawn  between  Roman  and  Tridentine 
doctrines  and  the  monstrous  casuistry  of  Tract  XC. 
But  beyond  this  there  were  deeper  questions  relating  to 
the  foundations  of  belief  which  gave  rise  to  a  school  of 


XXVI  INTKODUCTION 

thought  that  was  elaborated  with  extraordinary  in- 
genuity by  one  of  the  subtlest  intellects  England  has 
ever  produced.  The  object  of  Newman  was  to  reconcile 
what  he  believed  the  duty  of  arriving  at  a  state  of  abso- 
lute certitude  in  religious  belief  Avith  an  intellectual  per- 
ception that  evidence  could  never  lead  him  further  than 
probability.  Those  who  have  read  his  writings  on  this 
subject  culminating  in  that  most  remarkable  product  of 
his  old  age  "  The  Grammar  of  Assent"  will  appreciate 
the  extraordinary  powers  of  refined  and  subtle  reasoning 
he  devoted  to  the  task. 

It  might  seem  at  first  sight  a  paradox  to  draw  any 
comparison  between  Newman  and  Gladstone.  The  one, 
though  he  was  essentially  the  leader  of  a  great  and  en- 
during movement  of  thought,  spent  all  his  life  in  a  sin- 
gle groove  and  most  of  it  in  profound  and  unambitious 
seclusion.  The  other  was  perpetually  in  the  arena  and 
mixed  more  widely,  more  variously  and  more  passion- 
ately than  almost  any  of  his  contemporaries  with  the 
affairs  and  the  contentions  of  men.  Newman  also  was 
one  of  the  great  masters  of  English  prose,  while  of  the 
vast  library  of  books,  essays  and  pamphlets  that  issued 
from  the  pen  of  Gladstone,  it  is  more  than  doubtful 
whether  there  is  any  one  that  will  be  hereafter  valued 
either  for  the  beauty  of  its  expression  or  for  the  intrinsic 
wisdom  of  its  contents.  But  both  men  were  by  nature 
extraordinary  masters  of  the  art  of  casuistry;  both  cul- 
tivated their  talent  to  the  highest  point,  and  both  had 
the  characteristic  temptations  of  that  class  of  mind. 
There  is  such  a  thing  as  an  honest  man  with  a  dishon- 
est mind.  There  are  men  who  are  wholly  incapable  of 
wilful  and  deliberate  untruthfulness,  but  who  have  the 
habit  of  quibbling  with  their  convictions  and  by  skilful 
casuistry  persuading  themselves  that  what  they  wish  is 
right.     Newman,  at  a  comparatively  early  age,  passed 


INTRODUCTION  XXvil 

into  the  Church  to  which  his  character  and  intellect 
naturally  belonged,  and  this  temptation  in  a  great  de- 
gree ceased.  Gladstone  was  reserved  for  other  destinies. 
The  essentially  theological  cast  of  his  mind  was  clearly 
recognised  by  all  good  observers.  There  was  no  subject 
on  which  he  read  more  and  wrote  more  and  which  he 
followed  with  more  absorbing  passion,  and  theology  was 
the  one  great  department  of  thought  in  which  through 
the  whole  of  his  long  career  his  opinions  remained  sub- 
stantially unchanged.  To  the  end  of  his  life  questions 
like  Divorce  and  Ritualism  on  which  politics  and  reli- 
gion touched,  always  awoke  in  him  a  passionate  interest. 
His  theology  was  a  strongly  accentuated  High  Church 
Anglicanism,  profoundly  separated  from  the  non- 
Episcopal  conception  of  Christianity,  but  at  the  same 
time  very  anti-Papal,  and  much  in  sympathy  with  the 
Old  Catholic  movement  of  Dollinger,  and  with  the 
Ritualistic  school  at  home.  It  used  to  be  said  of  him 
during  the  Vatican  Council  that  his  interest  in  it  was  so 
intense  that  he  would  gladly  have  thrown  up  the  great- 
est English  political  position  if  he  could  have  made  a 
speech  in  the  Council.  And  in  his  political  reasoning 
it  is  curious  to  notice  how  often  the  methods  of  the 
theological  controversialist  seemed  to  prevail.  The 
habit  of  pushing  to  extreme  logical  consequences  prin- 
ciples which  in  some  small  and  inconsistent  way  had 
been  admitted  as  a  matter  of  expediency  or  a  matter  of 
compromise  into  institutions — the  tendency  to  excessive 
refinement  of  reasoning  and  excessive  subtlety  of  dis- 
tinction which  is  so  apparent  in  controversial  theology, 
never  left  him.  There  was  something  strangely  tortuous 
in  his  methods  of  reasoning,  whether  he  was  writing 
elaborate  books  on  Church  principles,  or  dealing  Avith 
Homeric  problems,  or  discussing  some  great  question  of 
present  politics.     In  his  published  correspondence  with 


XXVni  INTEODUCTION 

Bishop  Wilberforce  a  good  critic  will  often  observe  the 
contrast  between  the  Statesman  who  was  naturally  a  theo- 
logian and  the  Bishop  who  was  naturally  a  statesman. 

By  constant  practice  the  power  of  ingenious,  subtle, 
refined  controversy  attained  in  Gladstone  an  almost  pre- 
ternatural perfection.  No  one  could  compare  with  him 
in  dexterity  of  word-fencing  and  hair-splitting  and  in 
the  evasive  subtleties  of  debate.  He  gave  the  impres- 
sion that  there  was  no  question  or  side  of  a  question 
that  he  could  not  argue,  no  contradiction  that  he  could 
not  explain,  no  conclusion,  however  obvious,  that  he 
could  not  evade  or  refine  away.  Nothing  was  more 
curious  than  to  hear  him  make  a  speech  on  a  subject  on 
which  he  did  not  wish  to  give  an  opinion.  The  long 
roll  of  sonorous  and  misty  sentences,  each  statement  so 
ingeniously  qualified,  each  approach  to  precision  so  skil- 
fully shaded  by  some  calculated  ambiguity  of  phrase, 
speedily  baffled  the  most  attentive  listener.  He  had 
rhetorical  devices,  not,  I  think,  of  the  kind  that  in- 
spires confidence,  which  became  familiar  to  careful  stu- 
dents of  his  methods.  There  was  the  sentence  thrown 
out  in  the  midst  of  an  argument  or  statement  of  policy, 
of  the  nature  of  a  back  door  enabling  the  speaker  to  re- 
tire hereafter  from  his  position,  if  it  was  not  convenient 
to  adhere  to  it.  There  was  the  obscure  and  apparently 
insignificant  phrase,  wrapped  up  in  redundant  verbiage, 
attracting  no  attention  and  committing  the  speaker  to 
nothing,  but  yet  faintly  adumbrating  a  possible  change 
of  policy,  and  destined  to  be  referred  to  hereafter  to 
justify  his  consistency  in  taking  some  step  which  had 
never  been  suspected  or  anticipated.  There  was  the 
contradiction  or  the  statement,  apparently  so  positive, 
so  eloquent,  so  indignant,  that  it  carried  away  his  audi- 
ence, but  when  carefully  examined  it  was  found  that  the 
sentences  were  so  ingeniously  constructed  that  they  did 


INTRODUCTION  XXIX 

not  quite  cover  all  the  assertions  they  appeared  to  con- 
tradict or  quite  bind  the  speaker  to  all  they  appeared  to 
imply,  and  it  was  soon  found  that  this  limitation  was 
carefully  intended.  There  was  the  slight  change  of 
issue  so  skilfully  managed  as  at  first  to  be  almost  im- 
perceptible, which  turned  an  inconvenient  debate,  as  it 
were,  on  a  new  pair  of  rails,  while  masses  of  detail  and 
side  issues  were  made  use  of  to  mask  or  perplex  the 
main  question.  Unexpected  subtleties,  distinctions  of 
interpretation  without  number,  ingenious  plausibilities 
invented  for  the  mere  purpose  of  debate  would,  always 
if  needed,  rise  to  the  surface  of  his  mind  as  fast  as  the 
bubbles  in  a  simmering  cauldron — as  fast,  and  often  as 
unsubstantial  too.  There  seldom  was  a  speaker  from 
whose  words  it  was  so  difficult  to  extricate  a  precise 
meaning;  who  so  constantly  used  language  susceptible 
of  different  interpretations;  who  so  often  seemed  to  say 
a  thing  and  by  seeming  to  say  it  raised  hopes  and  won 
influence  and  applause  without  definitely  binding  him- 
self to  it.  True  eloquence  is  like  the  telescope  which 
brings  vividly  before  us  things  that  are  remote  and  ob- 
scure— Gladstone  could  when  he  pleased  reverse  the 
telescope  and  make  what  to  ordinary  apprehensions  was 
plain  and  near,  appear  dubious  and  dim. 

It  was  characteristic  of  his  mind  that  almost  the  only 
form  of  eloquence  in  which  he  did  not  excel  was  the 
plain,  direct,  terse  and  unambiguous.  So  great  a 
master  of  debate  could  not  indeed  be  incapable  of  it, 
but  in  this  he  had  many  equals  or  superiors.  His  mind 
seemed  naturally  to  move  in  curves.  Bright,  Cobden, 
Roebuck,  Disraeli,  Lord  John  Russell,  Lord  Palmerston 
— different  as  they  were  in  other  respects,  had  all  very 
eminently  the  art  of  simplifying  complicated  questions 
by  bringing  the  main  and  central  issues  into  clear  relief. 
Gladstone's  mastery  of  detail  was  prodigious  and  it  was 


XXX  INTRODUCTION 

at  once  his  weakness  and  his  strength.  *'  When  I 
speak,"  Bright  once  said,  "I  sail  from  promontory  to 
promontory.  When  Gladstone  speaks  he  sails  all  round 
the  country  and  occasionally  goes  up  a  navigable  river 
and  down  again."  His  love  of  details  and  his  love  of 
episodes  constantly  obscured  in  his  speeches  the  main 
question.  He  delighted  in  arguing  on  side  issues  and  a 
strange  want  of  mental  perspective  was  one  of  his  most 
marked  defects. 

Passion  and  casuistry  seem  naturally  incompatible, 
but  in  Gladstone  they  were  most  curiously  combined. 
No  other  great  politician  so  habitually  steeped  his  poli- 
tics in  emotion,  and  this  was  one  great  cause  of  his  wide 
popular  influence.  Yet  in  his  most  burning  eloquence, 
in  his  most  impassioned  appeals,  the  casuistic  strain,  the 
skilful  qualification  or  reservation  was  rarely  wanting. 

Nature  had  bestowed  on  him  not  only  great  mental 
powers  but  also  a  noble  voice,  an  impressive  counte- 
nance, an  iron  physical  frame,  and  he  came  into  the 
House  with  every  advantage  that  fortune  could  give. 
The  son  of  a  very  wealthy  merchant  and  slave-owner, 
he  had  the  best  education  that  Eton  and  Oxford  could 
furnish.  He  mixed  from  his  earliest  youth  with  the 
governing  classes  of  the  country  and  had  every  oppor- 
tunity of  catching  their  tone  and  spirit.  He  was  brought 
into  Parliament  at  twenty-three,  when  his  mind  had  still 
all  its  flexibility;  at  twenty-five  he  began  his  long  official 
training,  as  Junior  Lord  of  the  Treasury;  a  year  later 
he  rose  to  the  important  office  of  Under  Secretary  for 
the  Colonies  and  he  entered  the  Cabinet  at  thirty-three. 
What  a  contrast  to  the  long  struggle  with  adverse  cir- 
cumstances that  falls  to  the  lot  of  most  men  of  genius! 
— to  the  lives  of  Burke,  or  Disraeli,  or  Carlyle!  But  if 
fortune  had  given  him  much,  he  improved  by  untiring 
industry  every  opportunity.     Seldom,  indeed,  has  there 


INTRODUCTION  XXXI 

been  a  harder  worker,  and  if  Carlyle  was  right  in  describ- 
ing genius  as  a  great  faculty  for  taking  pains,  tliis,  at 
least,  cannot  be  denied  to  Gladstone.  Simple,  abstemi- 
ous, irreproachable  in  private  and  domestic  life,  his  in- 
ordinate love  of  work  never  left  him  from  early  youth 
to  extreme  old  age;  with  the  exception  of  Sir  Cornewall 
Lewis  he  was  probably  more  learned  in  matters  uncon- 
nected with  politics  than  any  other  Cabinet  minister, 
and  no  politician  was  more  deeply  versed  in  official  work. 
There  were,  it  is  true,  wide  tracts  of  knowledge  with 
which  he  had  no  sympathy.  The  whole  great  field  of 
modern  scientific  discovery  seemed  out  of  hi^  range. 
An  intimate  friend  of  Faraday  once  described  to  me 
how,  when  Faraday  was  endeavouring  to  explain  to 
Gladstone  and  several  others  an  important  new  discov- 
ery in  science  Gladstone's  only  commentary  was  "but, 
after  all,  what  use  is  it?"  "Why,  sir,"  replied  Faraday, 
"  there  is  every  probability  that  you  will  soon  be  able  to 
tax  it!"  Most  persons  who  read  Gladstone's  contro- 
versy with  Huxley  about  the  Mosaic  cosmogony  will 
agree  that  he  was  about  as  remote  from  the  scientific 
spirit  of  his  age  as  an  able  man  could  well  be.  Except 
in  theology  his  knowledge  was  perhaps  more  remarkable 
for  its  wide  superficies  thau  for  its  profundity  and  those 
who  had  made  special  studies  of  any  one  subject  were 
rather  apt  to  be  impressed  by  his  knowledge  of  all 
others.  "  What  a  wonderful  man  Gladstone  is,"  Boehm 
once  said  to  me  with  his  usual  quiet  humour,  "  he  seems 
to  me  to  understand  everything — except  art."  "  What- 
ever else  Mr.  Gladstone  may  leave  a  reputation  by,"  said 
Mr.  Grote,  "it  will  not  be  by  what  he  has  written  on 
Greek  subjects."  In  this  last  case,  however,  the  ad- 
verse criticism  was  not  elicited  by  want  of  knowledge 
on  the  part  of  Gladstone — for  he  was  an  admirable 
classical  scholar — but  by  the  perverse  and  most  character- 


XXXU  INTRODUCTION 

istic  ingenuity  with  which  he  maintained  the  existence 
in  Greek  Mythology  of  a  Divine  Revelation  adumbrating 
doctrines  of  the  Christian  faith.  He  wrote  much  about 
the  ancient  mythologies,  but  his  views  on  this  subject 
have  never,  I  believe,  found  acceptance  from  really  com- 
petent scholars.  But  on  purely  literary  questions  his  taste 
was  excellent;  he  was  a  good  critic,  and  his  sympathies 
were  very  wide.  He  had  a  genuine  love  and  passion  for 
literature  and  he  had  usually  some  book — Sister  Dora — 
John  Inglesant — George  Eliot's  Life — Purcell's  life  of 
Manning,  which  seemed  to  have  taken  complete  hold 
of  his  nature.  For  some  books — Newman's  "  Dream  of 
Gerontius  "  was  a  conspicuous  examj)le — his  enthusiasm 
sometimes  seemed  to  me  to  approach  to  extravagance, 
and  he  not  unf requently  spoke  of  men  greatly  inferior  in 
intellectual  power  to  himself  in  a  strain  of  humility  which 
it  was  difficult  to  believe  was  altogether  sincere,  though 
it  is  probable  that  at  the  moment  it  was  so.  There  was 
indeed  in  his  nature  a  strange  mixture,  or  rather  a 
strange  alternation  of  extreme  humility  and  excessive 
self-confidence,  and  each  of  these  aspects  of  his  charac- 
ter was  frequently  apparent.  In  literature,  as  in  other 
matters,  his  likes  and  dislikes  were  not  altogether  "  dry 
light."  It  was  curious  to  contrast  the  solemn  horror 
with  which  he  spoke  of  the  dangerous  character  of  the 
writings  of  Matthew  Arnold — who  was  by  no  means  a 
worshipper  at  the  Gladstonian  shrine — with  his  warm 
sympathy  for  another  illustrious  writer  whose  opinions 
on  theological  subjects  were  certainly  not  less  subversive 
or  less  strongly  expressed,  but  who  happened  to  be  one 
of  his  own  most  devoted  followers. 

A  great  source  both  of  his  attraction  and  of  his  power 
was  his  extraordinary  gift  of  concentration.  Versatility 
of  tastes  never  weakened,  as  it  does  with  most  men,  the 
strength  of  his  will.     One  of  the  charms  of  his  conver- 


INTRODUCTION  XXxill 

sation  was  that  on  whatever  subject  he  spoke  to  you,  he 
spoke  as  if  it  was  the  subject  in  the  whole  world  that 
interested  him  the  most.  He  could  throw  off  most 
completely  the  thoughts,  the  cares,  the  responsibilities 
of  politics.  It  was  said  that  on  his  Italian  journeys  he 
could  scarcely  be  induced  to  look  at  an  English  news- 
paper. When  he  was  Prime  ]\Iinister,  and  two  days 
before  the  meeting  of  the  Parliament  which  wrecked  his 
ministry  on  the  Irish  University  question,  I  have  heard 
him  at  a  little  party  of  seven  or  eight  persons  discours- 
ing for  a  whole  evening  on  certain  Cyprus  antiquities 
which  were  supposed  to  throw  light  on  the  Homeric  age, 
with  such  a  fire  and  passion  that  a  stranger  might  have 
imagined  that  he  was  in  the  presence  of  some  ardent 
antiquary  who  had  never  come  into  contact  with  any  of 
the  practical  affairs  of  life.  After  the  most  exciting 
debate,  after  a  long  and  brilliant  political  speech,  he 
would  turn  to  subjects  of  a  totally  different  order  with 
a  freshness  and  an  ardour  that  astonished  his  hearers. 
Often  he  would  appear  in  a  dining  club  where  he  some- 
times found  himself  surrounded  by  political  opponents, 
and  it  was  amusing  to  watch  the  skill  with  which  he 
dropped  into  the  16tli  Century,  or  into  those  early  rec- 
ollections with  which  he  never  failed  to  charm.  But 
when  he  was  engaged  in  politics  he  threw  his  whole 
nature  with  an  intense  and  concentrated  passion  into  its 
dryest  and  most  complicated  details.  "  It  seemed  as  if 
the  souls  of  all  the  compound  householders  in  England 
had  entered  into  him,"  was  the  criticism  of  a  good  judge 
who  had  heard  him  in  one  of  the  debates  on  Disraeli's 
Reform  Bill.  Nearly  at  the  same  time.  Sir  John  Kars- 
lake,  who  was  Disraeli's  Attorney- General,  spoke  of  the 
extraordinary  contrast  between  that  statesman's  skill  in 
dealing  with  main  questions  and  his  curious  incapacity 
for  mastering  business  details.     "  I  believe  that  during 


XXXIV  INTEODUCTION 

the  whole  of  the  debates,  he  never  really  understood 
what  a  Compound  householder  is." 

This  power  of  throwing  off  past  impressions  and  clos- 
ingthe  doors  of  his  mind  against  painful  subjects,  stood 
Gladstone  in  good  stead.  It  was,  no  doubt,  largely  a 
physical  gift — closely  connected  with  his  happy  power 
of  profound  sleep.  He  abandoned  in  the  course  of  his 
life  almost  every  political  opinion  which,  in  his  early 
years,  he  had  most  passionately  held,  but  few  men  seem 
to  have  suffered  less  from  the  pain  which  usually  accom- 
panies great  revolutions  and  transformations  of  opinion. 
Nor,  as  far  as  the  world  could  see,  did  the  sacrifice  of 
the  oldest  friendships  of  his  life  through  the  Home  Eule 
Schism,  or  the  ruin  and  misery  which  some  parts  of  his 
policy  brought  on  great  numbers  ever  cost  him  a  qualm 
of  remorse. 

He  had,  however,  the  extreme  sensibility  of  a  great 
orator  to  the  political  atmosphere  around  him.  He  was 
in  this  sense  profoundly  impressionable  and  profoundly 
sympathetic,  and  he  carried  into  every  political  cam- 
paign an  untiring  energy,  a  sanguine  and  hopeful  spirit 
habituall}'^  overrating  advantages  and  underrating  diffi- 
culties and  dangers,  and  above  all  an  indomitable  cour- 
age. He  had  every  kind  of  courage — the  courage  that 
despises  physical  danger,  which  made  the  police  precau- 
tions that  were  at  one  time  considered  indispensable, 
intolerably  irksome  to  him — the  courage  that  never 
feared  to  face  a  hostile  audience,  to  lead  a  forlorn  hope, 
to  defend  a  desperate  cause,  to  assume  a  great  weight  of 
responsibility — the  fatal  courage  which  did  not  hesitate 
to  commit  his  party  by  his  own  imperious  will  to  new 
and  untried  policies. 

It  is  not  surprising  that  a  man  combining  so  many  of 
the  elements  of  greatness  should  have  been  a  great  force 
Mid  should  have  filled  a  great  space  in  the  politics  of  his 


■    INTBODUCTION  XXXV 

time,  and  the  extreme  prolongation  of  his  political  life 
added  to  his  power.  The  respect  for  old  age  is  one  of 
the  strongest  of  English  instincts,  and  it  is  often  carried 
so  far  that  it  will  be  found  that  men  only  attain  their 
maximum  of  influence  at  a  time  when  their  faculties  are 
manifestly  declining.  A  speech  which  would  attract  no 
notice  if  delivered  by  a  man  in  the  prime  of  life  becomes 
a  phenomenon  and  therefore  an  influence  if  delivered 
in  extreme  old  age.  More  than  once  in  his  long  career 
Gladstone  alienated  the  House  of  Commons  by  gross 
defects  of  judgment  and  policy,  but  he  remained  to  the 
very  end  its  most  wonderful  figure,  and  although  at 
last  the  nation  decisively  withdrew  its  confidence  from 
his  policy  and  his  party  his  personal  popularity  only 
grew  with  age.  He  delighted  in  popularity,  and — in 
this,  as  in  all  other  respects,  unlike  that  strange,  silent, 
impassive  man  of  genius  who  for  so  many  years  con- 
fronted and  defied  him — his  exuberant  energies  were 
incessantly  poured  into  every  channel  where  it  could  be 
obtained.  And  the  pathos  of  his  death  silenced  for  a 
time  all  criticism  on  his  faults. 

Whether,  however,  impartial  history,  which  judges 
men  mainly  by  the  net  result  of  their  lives,  will  ulti- 
mately place  him  among  the  great  statesmen  of  Eng- 
land, seems  to  me  very  doubtful.  It  is  well  known  that 
Prince  Bismarck,  who  was  no  admirer  of  liis  English 
contemporary,  was  accustomed  to  say  that  the  tempera- 
ment of  a  rhetorician  is  not  only  different  from  but 
essentially  incompatible  with  that  of  a  ti'ue  statesman. 
The  susceptibility  to  every  passing  impression,  the  con- 
stant regard  to  immediate  issues  and  immediate  popu- 
larity, the  habit  of  looking  less  to  facts  than  to  the  pres- 
entation of  facts,  seemed  to  him  all  to  belong  to  a  type 
essentially  alien  to  the  cold,  calm,  sagacious  judgment 
of  a  real  statesman,  to  the  power  he  should  possess  of 


XXXVl  INTEODUCTION 

detaching  himself  from  present  circumstances  and  fore- 
seeing, judging  and  influencing  the  future.  Certain  it 
is  that  in  some  of  the  qualities  that  are  most  needed  for 
the  wise  government  of  men  Gladstone  was  conspica- 
ously  deficient.  A  sound,  temperate,  dispassionate  judg- 
ment; a  due  sense  of  the  proportion  of  things,  a  real 
knowledge  of  men  and  a  power  of  foreseeing  the  future 
were  gifts  in  which  he  was  wholly  wanting.  Few  men 
made  to  themselves  more  illusions  about  men  and  things. 
Few  men  shewed  in  a  long  political  life  less  prescience. 
Few  men  had  less  insight  into  individual  character  or 
less  power  of  understanding  and  judging  alien  types  of 
national  character.  No  prominent  English  statesman 
has  so  fundamentally  changed  his  convictions,  has  so 
often  taken  courses  of  which  his  own  earlier  words  are 
the  strongest  condemnation,  has  combined  so  remark- 
ably extreme  confidence  in  his  own  infallibility  with  the 
utmost  instability  of  judgment.  If  the  world  could  be 
wisely  governed  by  skilful  rhetoric,  he  would  have  been 
one  of  the  greatest  of  statesmen.  In  truth  no  man  is 
more  dangerous  in  a  State  than  he  who  possesses  in  an 
eminent  degree  the  power  of  moving,  dazzling  and  fas- 
cinating his  contemporaries,  while  in  soundness  of  judg- 
ment he  ranks  considerably  below  the  average  of  edu- 
cated men. 

The  extreme  distrust  both  of  his  judgment  and  char- 
acter that  prevailed,  even  in  the  earlier  stages  of  his 
career,  is  very  evident  in  the  traditions  and  the  confi- 
dential correspondence  of  the  time.  There  were  few 
more  acute  yet  few  kinder  judges  of  men  than  Lord 
Palmerston,  but  there  was  no  one  of  whom  he  spoke 
with  so  much  dislike  and  distrust  as  Gladstone,  and  it 
is  remarkable  how  fully  his  sentiments  were  shared  by  a 
man  so  different,  and  so  competent  as  Lord  Shaftesbury. 
In  the  letters  and  diaries  of  this  period  there  are  con- 


INTRODUCTION  XXXVll 

stant  indications  of  this  distrust  and  even  those  who 
were  most  attached  to  Gladstone  had  often  much  doubt 
about  his  future.  No  one  questioned  his  great  ability, 
his  extraordinary  industry,  his  deep  and  genuine  piety, 
but  with  all  this  there  went  a  belief  ia  the  incurable 
falseness  of  his  judgment  and  in  the  impossibility  of 
forecasting  his  future.  His  mind  seemed  always  on  an 
inclined  plane.  However  much  he  might  try  to  dis- 
guise it  from  others  and  perhaps  from  himself  by 
professions  of  humility,  his  love  of  power  was  inordi- 
nate, and  it  was  displayed  by  his  constant  restlessness 
and  his  fierce  criticism  whenever  he  was  out  of  office. 
And  with  this  was  joined  an  extraordinary  power  of  self- 
persuasion  which  at  every  period  of  his  life  was  clearly 
seen  by  his  more  intelligent  contemporaries  to  be  one  of 
his  most  marked  characteristics.  "  The  Right  Honour- 
able Gentleman,"  W.  E.  Forster  once  said  of  him,  "  can 
persuade  most  men  of  most  things.  He  can  persuade 
himself  of  almost  anything."  "  His  intellect,"  said  his 
old  friend  Dean  Lake,  "  can  persuade  his  conscience  of 
anything. "  "  His  conscience,"  predicted  another  friend 
in  his  early  youth,  *'is  so  tender  that  he  will  never  go 
straight."  Lowell  noticed  his  "wonderful  power  of 
improvising  convictions."  A  witty  prelate  is  credited 
with  the  saying  that  though  Gladstone  never  failed  to 
follow  his  conscieuce,  it  was  sometimes  as  the  man  who 
is  driving  a  gig  follows  his  horse.  Carlyle,  who,  what- 
ever else  he  was,  was  at  least  a  very  keen  judge  of  char- 
acter, always  spoke  of  him  with  a  degree  of  antipathy 
which  he  can  hardly  be  said  to  have  bestowed  on  any 
other  of  his  contemporaries.  He  believed  that  his  nature 
was  organically  disingenuous — that  he  was  perpetually 
*'  playing  false  with  his  intellect " — persuading  him- 
self that  what  was  his  interest  was  his  duty.  The  reader 
will  remember  in  Shooting  Niagara  a  significant  sen- 


XXXVlll  INTRODUCTION 

tence    which    to    those    who  knew   Oaiiyle  expressed 
much. 

This  power  of  self-persuasioa  is  in  itself  no  rare  thing 
in  politics,'  though  Gladstone  possessed  it  to  an  extraor- 
dinary degree.  Whatever  may  have  been  the  case  in  the 
first  moment  of  inception,  I,  at  least,  have  little  doubt 
that  in  the  subsequent  stages  of  his  policies,  he  was  not 
only  genuinely  sincere,  but  also  in  a  high  state  of  moral 
incandescence.  But  his  mind  was  almost  infinitely  fer- 
tile in  producing  arguments  on  each  side  of  any  ques- 
tion, and  it  seemed  as  if  a  slight  touch  of  will  could  de- 
cide the  preponderance.  And  it  was  part  of  his  ora- 
torical temperament  that  when  he  adopted  a  cause,  his 
whole  moral  nature  speedily  took  fire  and  he  was  soon 
passionately  persuaded  that  he  was  acting  almost  or  alto- 
gether under  a  Divine  impulse.  What  he  willed  he 
willed  very  strongly,  and  in  order  to  attain  it  he  would 
do  things  from  which  men  much  less  largely  endowed 
with  moral  scruples  would  have  shrunk.  We  have  an 
example  of  it  in  the  following  pages  in  the  manner  in 
which,  in  1874,  he  made  use  of  a  promise  to  abolish  the 
income  tax  as  an  election  cry  to  win  the  income  tax 
payers  to  his  side.  We  have  others  in  his  conduct  when 
the  House  of  Lords  rejected  his  Bill  for  the  abolition  of 
purchase  in  the  army  and  delayed  the  repeal  of  the 
paper  duty.  A  Court  of  Appeal  had  been  created  by 
Parliament  to  which   it  was  expressly  provided   that 


'"On    les    accuse     sou  vent  victions  passageres  suivant  leurs 

d'agir    sans    conviction  ;    mon  passions    et    leurs  inter^ts  du 

experience  m'a  montre  que  cela  moment,    et  ils  arrivent  ainsi 

etait  bien  moins  frequent  qu'on  a  faire  assez  honnetement  des 

ne    Timagine.      lis     possedent  ehoses    assez     peu     honnetes." 

seulement  la  faculte  precieuse  Tocqueville.    Souvenirs,  p.  134- 

et  irieme  qiielqucfois  neccssaire  135. 
en  politique  de  se  creer  des  ecu. 


INTKODUCTION  XXXIX 

judges  only  should  be  eligible.  Gladstone  wished  to 
appoint  his  Attorney- General,  who  was  not  a  Judge, 
and  he  accordingly  promoted  him  for  two  days  to  the 
Bench  in  order  that  he  should  qualify  for  the  post.  He 
acted  in  a  very  similar  manner  when  he  wished  to  ap- 
point a  clergyman  who  was  a  member  of  one  University 
to  a  living  which  was  restricted  by  law  to  members  of 
another.  Cases  of  this  kind,  though  they  were  very  sig- 
nificant were  not  very  important,  but  in  his  later  Irish 
policy  he  shewed  only  too  conclusively  how  easily  he 
could  cast  contracts,  pledges,  promises,  consistency  and 
scruples  to  the  wind. 

It  was  long  extremely  doubtful  on  which  side  his 
great  moral  and  intellectual  gifts  would  fi^nally  be  en- 
listed. The  Peelites  hung  ambiguously  between  the 
two  parties,  Gladstone  has  written  and  spoken  both 
with  the  bitterest  hostility  and  with  the  warmest  eulogy 
of  Lord  Palmerston,'  though  on  the  whole  the  note  of 
dislike  was  unquestionably  the  strongest.  Sir  Eobert 
Peel  and  Lord  Aberdeen  were  the  two  statesmen  with 
whom  he  had  real  sympathy,  and  they  were  the  states- 
men under  whom  his  official  life  till  his  fiftieth  year  had 
been  almost  wholly  passed.  With  the  exception  of  about 
three  weeks  after  the  fall  of  Lord  Aberdeen  when  he  con- 
sented, with  extreme  reluctance,'  to  hold  his  former 
office  of  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer  under  Lord 
Palmerston  he  had  never  served  under  a  Whig  leader. 
When  he  seceded  from  this  government  he  at  once  passed 
into  the  most  embittered  opposition ; '  he  took  part  in 
the  coalition  which  defeated  Lord  Palmerston  on  the 


'  See  the  passages  collected  '  Greville  Memoirs,  vii.  239- 

by   Mr.    Jennings  in  his  very  243. 

remarkable  book  on  Mr.  Glacl-  ^  "Gladstone  seems  to  have 

stone  juid  by  ^Ir.  George  Russell  been  so  inflamed  by  spite  and 

in  his  liie  of  Gladstone.  ill  humour  that  all  prudence  and 


xl  INTRODUCTION 

quarrel  with  China  in  March,  1857,  and  in  the  coalition 
which  a  year  later  drove  Lord  Palmerston  from  office  on 
the  pretext  that  by  introducing  his  bill  to  amend  the 
law  of  conspiracy  to  murder  he  showed  himself  unduly 
subservient  to  French  dictation.  In  an  article  in  the 
Quarterly  Review  he  exulted  in  no  generous  spirit  on 
what  he  deemed  his  irretrievable  fall.  Like  all  the 
Peelites  he  was  an  earnest  free  trader  but  free  trade  had 
now  ceased  to  be  a  dividing  line  between  the  two  parties 
and  up  to  the  end  of  1858  his  speeches  and  his  writings 
had  on  the  whole  leant  much  more  to  the  side  of  the 
Conservatives  than  to  the  side  of  the  Liberals.  He  was 
member  for  the  University  of  Oxford  which  was  an 
intensely  Tory  constituency.  He  remained  a  member 
of  the  Carlton  Club  the  representative  club  of  the  Tory 
party  till  1859.  He  was  not  really  pledged  or  com- 
mitted to  either  side;  he  had  more  than  once  shown  his 
independence,  and  he  was  much  distrusted  and  disliked 
in  the  Conservative  party/  but  it  was  evident  that  he 
still  retained  his  strong  conservative  instincts,  especially 
on  the  side  of  the  Church.  In  the  opinion  of  some  of 
the  most  sagacious  Judges,  during  several  years  of  the 
fifties  his  great  ambition  was  to  become  the  Conservative 
leader,  and  rightly  or  wrongly  they  believed  that  the 
real  obstacle  to  his  joining  the  Conservatives  was  that 
the  leadership  of  the  party  in  the  House  of  Commons 
was  not  vacant,  but  was  in  the  hands  of  Disraeli,  who 
was  too  strong  to  be  displaced  or  controlled.  The  posi- 
tion of  Disraeli  in  Lord  Derby's  Government  of  1858  is 
the  one  plausible  reason  that  can  be  assigned  why  Glad- 
stone refused  the  offer  of  Lord  Derby  to  join  that  Gov- 


discretion  forsook  him;  he  ap-  set  the  Government."    lb.  vol. 

pears  ready  to  say  and  do  any-  viii,,  p.  94. 
thinj,'  and  to  act  with  everybody         '  Ih.  p.  70-71,  95-6.     See  too 

if  he  can  only  contribute  to  up-  Lord  Malmesbury's  Memoirs. 


INTRODUCTION  xli 

ernment.  He  accepted,  however,  from  Lord, Derby  the 
post  of  High  Commissioner  to  the  Ionian  Isles,  and 
he  voted  with  the  Conservative  Government  on  the  mo- 
tion of  want  of  confidence  which  destroyed  that  Govern- 
ment in  the  summer  of  1859.  But  when  contrary  to  his 
expectation  Lord  Palmerston  once  more  rose  to  power 
at  the  head  of  the  Liberal  party,  and  offered  him  the 
Chancellorship  of  the  Exchequer,  he  accepted  the  office  * 
and  this  step  decided  his  course.  He  had  not,  it  is 
true,  the  smallest  real  sympathy  with  his  chief.  The 
two  men  were  utterly  dissimilar  in  character  and  ten- 
dencies. Lord  Palmerston  complained  that  Gladstone 
never  acted  to  him  like  a  faithful  colleague,  and  he 
found  him  a  constant  opponent  in  the  Cabinet.  But 
Palmerston  though  still  in  the  height  of  his  popularity 
was  now  a  very  old  man.  Lord  John  Russell  was  nearly 
seventy  and  he  soon  passed  into  the  House  of  Lords. 
By  joining  the  Libei'al  Ministry  Gladstone  secured  to 
himself  a  speedy  reversion  of  the  leadership  of  the 
House  and  it  became  certain  that  he  would  soon  succeed 
as  leader  of  the  party.  In  spite  of  his  tory  antecedents 
it  was  not  likely  that  he  would  long  maintain  the  mod- 
erate and  conservative  Liberalism  of  Lord  Palmerston. 
Having  once  decisively  thrown  in  his  lot  with  the 
Liberal  party  it  was  fully  in  accordance  with  his  nature 
that  he  should  gravitate  steadily  and  with  strong  con- 
viction towards  its  more  earnest,  more  active  and  more 
radical  wing.  From  this  time  his  advance  in  the  direc- 
tion of  democracy — greatly  stimulated,  as  Lord  Palmer- 
ston had  predicted  would  be  the  case,  by  his  ejection 
from  Oxford — was  continuous. 

If  we  attempt  to  estimate  what  he  accomplished  dur- 

*  It  appears  that  he  expressed    offered,   at   once   gave   way  to 
a  desire  for  it,  and  SirC.  Lewis,     him. — Lewis'  Letters,  p.  372. 
to  wiioin  it  had  originally  been 


Xlii  INTRODUCTION 

ing  his  long  political  life  we  shall  at  once  see  that  he 
belongs  to  a  wholly  different  category  of  statesmanship 
from  his  illustrious  contemporaries  Cavour  and  Bis- 
marck. The  unity  of  Italy  and  the  unity  of  Germany 
will  stand  out  to  the  end  of  time  among  the  chief  land- 
marks of  19th  Century  history,  and  the  names  of 
these  two  great  statesmen  will  live  for  ever  in  connec- 
tion with  them.  There  was  no  such  work  to  be  accom- 
plished in  England,  and  Gladstone's  most  fervent  ad- 
mirers will  hardly  place  his  reputation  on  his  excursions 
into  foreign  politics  and  international  affairs.  These 
are  fields  which  cannot  be  governed  or  largely  influenced 
by  mere  persuasive  words.  Two  things  may  be  truly 
said.  He  had  a  real  and  lifelong  hatred  of  acts  of 
cruelty  and  wrong.  This  was  shown  alike  in  his  early 
denunciations  of  the  tyranny  at  Naples  and  in  his  last 
passionate  outbursts  about  the  Armenian  Massacres.  It 
is  also  true  that  although  he  was  a  leading  minister  in 
the  Government  which  made  the  Crimean  War,  and 
although  he  was  directly  or  indirectly  responsible  for 
much  bloodshed  in  other  lands,  he  had  a  deep,  genuine 
love  of  peace.  As  he  once  happily  said  to  a  French 
friend  he  did  not  like  "  les  gloires  saignantes."  One  of 
his  most  contested  acts  was  his  surrender  of  the  Trans- 
vaal after  the  defeat  of  a  British  force  at  Majuba  Hill 
and  at  a  time  when  that  defeat  could  have  been  easily 
repaired.  Whatever  judgment  may  be  formed  of  its 
wisdom,  this  act  can  have  been  inspired  by  no  motive 
other  than  a  sincere  sense  of  duty,  and  it  needed  in  a 
British  Statesman  much  more  real  courage  than  a  con- 
tinuation of  the  War.  In  the  same  spirit  in  order  to 
induce  the  Americans  to  consent  to  submit  the  question 
of  the  Alabama  Claims  to  arbitration  and  thus  to  close 
a  long  standing  dispute,  he  consented  to  make  prelim- 
inary concessions  about  tlie  terms  of  the  arbitration 


INTRODUCTION  '  xliii 

which  were  exceedingly  and  manifestly  disadvantageous 
to  England  and  to  which  neither  Lord  Derby  nor  Lord 
John  Kussell  would  consent.  At  the  same  time,  his 
vacillation  and  inconsistency  during  the  Crimean  war 
and  in  his  policy  in  Egypt  and  in  the  Soudan;  his  com- 
plete misconception  of  the  Civil  War  in  America  and 
the  indiscretion  with  which  he  expressed  it;  the  total 
failure  of  his  negociation  with  the  Ionian  Isles;  the 
absolutely  unrestrained  violence  of  his  utterances  on 
Eastern  questions  and  the  indiscriminate  and  almost 
hysterical  fury  with  which  he  assailed  every  act  of  Lord 
Beaconsfield  in  foreign.  Colonial  and  Indian  affairs, 
entirely  regardless  of  the  effects  of  his  language  upon 
national  interests,  convinced  all  good  judges  both  at 
home  and  abroad  that  he  was  utterly  without  the 
qualities  of  a  foreign  minister. 

Fortunately  when  he  was  in  office  he  had  very  com- 
petent foreign  ministers  at  his  side,  but  his  own  inroads 
into  this  department  were  always  watched  with  alarm. 
There  are  few  more  humiliating  incidents  in  modern 
English  politics  than  his  furious  attack  on  Austria  in 
the  campaign  which  he  directed  against  Lord  Beacons- 
field  in  1880  followed  by  his  almost  abject  apology  to 
the  Austrian  Ambassador  as  soon  as  that  campaign  had 
proved  successful  and  he  found  himself  in  the  responsi- 
bility of  office.  I  do  not  think  that  any  candid  histo- 
rian can  acquit  him  of  having  when  in  opposition  made 
large  use  of  foreign  complications  for  party  purposes, 
and  greatly  aggravated  the  difficulties  of  English  foreign 
policy  by  the  recklessness  of  his  language.  He  seems  to 
have  known  curiously  little  of  foreign  countries,  and  he 
sometimes  drew  pictures  of  the  virtues  of  semi-barba- 
rous tribes  and  of  the  philanthropy  of  not  too  disinter- 
ested governments  which  filled  diplomatists  and  foreign 
statesmen  with  amazement.     He  witnessed  with  well- 


xliv  INTRODUCTION 

deserved  disapprobation  the  gigantic  spread  of  militar- 
ism ou  the  Continent,  but  he  appears  to  have  been 
wholly  blind  to  the  necessity  of-  making  a  proportionate 
increase  of  the  defensive  forces  of  the  Empire.  It  was 
always  his  object  to  reduce  them  to  the  lowest  possible 
point  and  for  several  years  they  sank  far  below  Avhat 
was  necessary  for  security.  It  was  long  his  custom  to 
make  a  simple  comparison  between  the  aggregate  ex- 
penditure of  different  ministries  a  leading  topic  of  his 
party  speeches,  and  as  corrupt  expenditure  in  England 
had  almost  wholly  ceased  the  only  practical  field  for  large 
retrenchment  lay  in  the  army  and  the  navy.  It  thus 
became  a  strong  party  interest  on  both  sides  to  reduce 
the  defences  of  the  nation  at  a  time  when  the  armaments 
of  all  great  foreign  powers  were  being  enormously  in- 
creased ;  when  the  necessary  expense  of  the  navy  through 
new  inventions,  was  advancing  with  gigantic  strides; 
and  when  the  rapidity  of  wars  and  the  decisive  rapidity 
of  steam  made  it  the  vital  interest  of  every  nation  to  be 
so  prepared  as  to  be  invulnerable  in  the  first  weeks  of  a 
war. 

Fortunately  for  the  Empire  he  had  colleagues  who 
realised  the  danger  of  such  a  policy  and  insisted  on  great 
augmentations  of  the  navy,  but  Gladstone  never  seems 
to  have  seen  the  necessity,  and  to  the  last  he  deplored 
the  increasing  expenditure  as  a  kind  of  mania.  The 
Imperial  sentiment  which  takes  a  pride  in  the  power  and 
influence  and  greatness  of  the  Empire  was  almost  wholly 
wanting  in  his  nature  and  amid  all  the  changes  of  his 
opinions  he  never  seems  to  have  abandoned  the  old  doc- 
trine of  the  Manchester  school  about  the  uselessness  of 
Colonies. 

As  a  Financial  Minister  he  will  rank  far  more  highly 
though,  as  I  have  said,  a  great  part  of  his  reputation  is 
due  to  the  extraordinary  eloquence  he  introduced  into  a 


INTRODUCTION  xlv 

department  which  is  naturally  much  more  akin  to  the 
business  of  a  merchant's  counting  house  than  to  oratori- 
cal display.  It  cannot,  however,  be  reasonably  denied 
that  he  carried  out  the  policy  initiated  by  Sir  Robert 
Peel  of  revising  the  whole  system  of  our  tariffs  on  the 
basis  of  free  trade  with  extraordinary  skill,  industry  and 
success.  No  one  was  more  completely  master  of  all  the 
details  of  a  highly  complicated  system  of  finance  and 
many  of  his  reductions  and  abolitions  of  duties  had  social 
effects  of  much  importance.  He  abolished  during  his 
ministries  a  large  number  of  injudicious  and  burden- 
some taxes,  and  no  minister  ever  maintained  more 
strenuously  the  duty  of  maintaining  a  proper  balance 
between  revenue  and  expenditure;  of  making  great  sacri- 
fices to  meet  each  year's  expenditure  out  of  that  year's 
revenue.  In  a  good  many  instances,  it  is  true,  his 
financial  estimates  and  predictions  were  falsified  by  the 
event.  There  have  always  been  very  considerable 
financiers  who  have  doubted  whether  it  was  a  really  wise 
policy  to  concentrate  all  indirect  taxation  on  an  extremely 
small  number  of  articles.  The  extension  of  the  Income 
Tax  to  Ireland  and  the  raising  of  the  spirit  duties  at  a 
time  when  that  country  was  but  just  recovering  from 
the  ruinous  effects  of  the  great  famine,  and  when  its 
property  was  crushed  by  the  new  poor  law,  had  the 
effect  of  imposing  on  the  poorest  part  of  the  Empire  a 
wholly  disproportionate  amount  of  taxation,  in  flagrant 
opposition  to  the  spirit  of  the  Union,  which  was 
intended  in  the  words  of  Lord  Castlereagh,  to  give  Ire- 
land "the  utmost  possible  security  that  she  cannot  be 
taxed  beyond  the  measure  of  her  comparative  ability 
and  that  the  ratio  of' her  contribution  must  ever  cor- 
respond with  her  relative  wealth  and  prosperity."  Nor 
did  Gladstone  contribute  largely  to  those  grants  from 
Imperial  funds  to  Irish  purposes,  which  have  of  late 


xlvi  INTI^ODUCTION 

years  done  much  to  mitigate  the  grievance.  But  look- 
ing at  it  as  a  whole,  his  financial  legislation  was  a  great 
and  beneficial  work  and  it  is,  I  believe,  upon  it  that  his 
reputation  for  statesmanship  will  chiefly  rest.  The 
extension  of  the  succession  duty  to  real  and  settled 
property,  throwing  a  larger  proportion  of  taxation  upon 
land,  was  neither  unjust  nor  excessive;  except  in  cases 
where  the  exigencies  of  his  later  Irish  policy  reversed 
all  his  earlier  opinions,  he  had  sound  views  about 
economy,  self-reliance,  freedom  of  contract,  equality  of 
taxation,  and  he  had  a  genuine  dislike  to  Socialistic  or 
semi- Socialistic  tendencies. 

Whether  as  Prime  Minister,  even  in  the  period  that 
preceded  the  disruption  of  1886,  he  was  equally  great 
may  be  much  doubted.  He  was,  it  is  true,  a  command- 
ing minister,  exacting  and  obtaining  great  submission  in 
his  cabinet  and  his  party,  exercising  a  strong  and  con- 
stant control  over  all  departments  and  mastering  with 
indefatigable  industry  the  details  of  every  measure,  and 
his  great  ministry  which  extended  from  December  1868 
to  February  1874,  though  it  ended  by  alienating  a  House 
of  Commons  in  which  he  had  an  overwhelming  majority, 
and  by  a  crushing  defeat  in  the  country,  was  at  least 
marked  by  extraordinary  activity  and  by  a  rich  harvest 
of  important  legislation.  It  was  this  Ministry  which 
introduced  the  ballot  into  our  parliamentary  elections; 
abolished  in  defiance  of  the  vote  of  the  House  of  Lords, 
and  by  a  high-handed  and  arbitrary  exercise  of  the  powers 
of  the  Crown  the  system  of  purchase  in  the  army  and 
swept  away  those  university  tests  of  which  Gladstone 
had  once  been  the  most  fervent  defender.  The  credit 
of  the  Education  Act,  which  is  its  most  really  valuable 
measure,  belongs  to  Forster,  but  the  disestablishment 
and  disendowment  of  the  Irish  Church  and  the  Irish 
Laud  Bill  of  1870,  as  well  as  the  abortive  measure  for 


INTRODUCTION  xlvii 

the  establishment  of  a  Catholic  University  in  Ireland 
were  all  introduced  by  Gladstone  himself  and  they  were 
mainly  his  work. 

It  was  a  strange  irony  of  fate  that  the  author  of  the 
treatises  on  "  the  State  and  Church  "  and  on  "  Church 
Principles"  which  were  among  the  most  extreme  and 
elaborate  defences  of  Church  Establishments — the  states- 
man who  was  distinguished  beyond  all  others  for  his 
love  of  Churches  and  theologies  and  who  had  once  rep- 
resented the  defence  of  the  Irish  Church  Establishment 
as  one  of  the  highest  of  religious  duties '  should  have 
been  the  man  to  destroy  that  Church.  In  truth,  how- 
ever, his  act  was  less  inconsistent  than  was  alleged.  His 
defence  of  the  Irish  Church  had  been  chiefly  based  on 
the  old  tory  theory  of  the  necessary  connection  between 
Church  and  State  which  regards  it  as  the  duty  of  the 
State  to  endow  invariably  and  exclusively  the  Church 
which  is  true,  and  this  theory  had  long  since  been  given 
up.  As  early  as  1845  Gladstone  had  resigned  his  seat 
in  the  Cabinet  because  in  opposition  to  this  theory  Sir 
Kobert  Peel  had  increased  the  Maynooth  grant,  but 
having  made  this  very  real  and  considerable  sacrifice  to 
consistency  he  recognised  the  necessity  of  abandoning 
the  theory,  by  himself  voting  as  a  private  member  in 
favour  of  the  grant.  In  the  March  of  1865,  when  a 
Eadical  member  brought  in  a  resolution  condemnatory 
of  the  Irish  Church,  Gladstone,  who  was  then  Chancel- 


"   '  "  Upon  us  of  this  day  has  stone's  State  and  Church  (4th 

fallen  (and  we  shrink  not  from  ed.),  ii.  .p.  13.     Disraeli  in  1868 

it,  bvit  welcome  it  as  a  high  and  said    with    little    exaggeration 

glorious     though    an"  arduous  that  Gladstone  had  held  power 

duty)  the  defence  of   the    Re-  for  a  quarter  of  a  century  and 

formed  Catholic  Church  in  Ire-  "had  never  done  anything  for 

land,  as  the  religious  establish-  Ireland,  but    make  speeches  in 

ment  of  the  country."     Glad-  favour  of  the  Irish  Church." 


xlviii  INTKODUCTION 

lor  of  the  Exchequer  under  Lord  Palmerston,  made  a 
speech  which  was  profoundly  significant.  He  refused 
to  vote  for  the  Kesolution,  but  only  on  the  ground  that 
it  would  pledge  the  Government  to  a  course  it  was  not 
ill  their  power  to  follow.  He'  said  that  the  Irish  Church 
was  in  a  false  and  unsatisfactory  position  and  minis- 
tered to  only  one-eighth  or  one-ninth  of  the  whole  com- 
munity; and  he  spoke  of  tythes  as  national  property 
which  should  be  dealt  with  for  the  advantage  of  the 
whole  community.  His  opponents  clearly  saw  that  he 
no  longer  believed  in  the  justice  of  maintaining  the  Irish 
Church  and  that  his  mind  was  moving  in  the  direction 
of  disestablishment;  and  when  he  was  challenged  Avith 
this  he  neither  affirmed  nor  denied  it,  but  replied  that 
the  question  was  "  remote  and  apparently  out  of  all  bear- 
ing on  the  practical  politics  of  the  day;  "  that  there  was 
"a  broad  distinction  between  the  abstract  and  the  prac- 
tical views  of  the  subject  "  and  that  he  scarcely  expected 
to  be  ever  called  upon  to  take  part  in  any  measure  deal- 
ing with  the  Irish  Church. 

The  strongly  Evangelical  character  of  that  Church 
made  it  very  unsympathetic  to  him  and  several  succes- 
sive events  pushed  the  question  of  its  disestablishment 
into  the  foreground.  In  1865  he  lost  his  seat  for  the 
University  of  Oxford.  The  death  of  Lord  Palmerston 
speedily  followed  and  it  removed  a  great  restraining  in- 
fluence. The  battle  of  the  Kef orm  Bill  had  been  fought, 
and  by  an  extremely  skilful  but  extremely  unscrupulous 
policy  Disraeli  had  succeeded  in  carrying  the  eminently 
democratic  Eeform  Bill  of  1867;  by  doing  so,  he  took 
the  question  of  ParHamentaiy  Reform  out  of  the  hands 
of  the  Liberal  party  and  seemed  likely  for  some  time  to 
be  in  power,  and  the  withdrawal  of  Lord  Derby  in  Feb- 
ruary 1868  placed  him  in  the  coveted  post  of  Prime  Min- 
ister.    Of  all  living  men  it  may  be  said  with  confidence 


INTRODUCTION  xlix 

Disraeli  was  the  man  whom  Gladstone  most  detested, 
and  the  majority  in  Parliament  was  Liberal,  though  it 
had  been  profoundly  divided  by  the  question  of  Eeform. 
If  it  was  to  be  united  some  new  cry  must  be  found. 
Disraeli  had  barely  become  Prime  Minister  when  his 
rival  declared  that  we  owed  Ireland  a  debt  of  justice 
and  that  the  Irish  Church  as  a  State  Church  must  cease 
to  exist.  "In  the  name  of  truth  and  light,"  he  said, 
"  we  shall  go  forward.  The  hour  is  come — Justice  de- 
layed is  justice  denied." 

"  It  is  a  bad  business,"  wrote  his  enthusiastic  admirer. 
Bishop  Wilberforce,  "and  I  am  afraid  Gladstone  has 
been  drawn  into  it  from  the  unconscious  influence  of  his 
restlessness  at  being  out  of  office.  I  have  no  doubt  that 
his  hatred  to  the  low  tone  of  the  Irish  branch  has  had  a 
great  deal  to  do  with  it."  Disraeli  observed  with  quiet 
sarcasm  that  he  was  indeed  the  most  unfortunate  of 
ministers,  for  he  had  no  sooner  become  Prime  Minister 
than  an  Irish  grievance  which  had  lasted  for  seven  cen- 
turies became  suddenly  intolerable.  Gladstone,  however, 
placed  the  question  upon  the  very  highest  plane  of  re- 
ligious duty  and  the  superb  eloquence  with  which,  in 
accents  of  the  most  passionate  conviction,  he  enforced 
this  duty  electrified  the  country.  It  was  a  tone  utterly 
unlike  that  of  mere  secular  minded  politicians.  Unfor- 
tunately when  he  was  asked  why  it  was  that  a  question 
which  in  1865  he  pronounced  outside  practical  politics 
had  become  one  of  the  most  urgent  necessity  in  1868,  he 
gave  as  his  reason  the  Fenian  attempt  to  blow  up  the 
Clerkenwell  Jail  and  the  shooting  of  a  policeman  on  the 
occasion  of  the  rescue  of  Fenian  prisoners  in  Manches- 
ter. These  things,  he  said,  called  the  attention  of  Eng- 
lish public  opinion  to  Irish  grievances  and  brought  the 
Irish  Churcli  question  into  the  range  of  practical  poli- 
tics.    In  the  then  existing  condition  of  Ireland  it  would 


1  INTRODUCTION 

have  been  difficult  for  a  responsible  politician  to  have 
used  language  more  dangerous  or  indeed  more  culpable. 
It  was  a  direct,  powerful  and  taost  efficacious  encour- 
agement to  the  conspirators  in  America,  who  hoped  by 
successive  dynamite  outrages  to  wring  Home  Kule  and 
Separation  from  England. 

Considered,  however,  as  a  party  measure — if  we  may 
be  permitted  to  regard  it  in  this  light — the  Irish  Church 
policy '^as  a  brilliant  success.  It  gave  Gladstone  a 
speedy  victory  in  the  House  of  Commons  and  the  disso- 
lution that  followed  on  the  question  gave  him  an  enor- 
mous majority.  He  carried  the  measure  through  all  its 
stages  with  a  splendour  of  eloquence  and  a  mastery  of 
details  which  astonished  and  delighted  his  hearers,  and 
also,  it  must  be  added,  with  a  manifest  desire  to  protect 
existing  interests  and  to  injure  as  little  as  possible  the 
Church  which  he  disendowed.  To  Irishmen  it  was 
not  surprising  that  the  measure  utterly  failed  to  pro- 
duce the  pacification  which  English  Statesmen  pre- 
dicted. Since  the  tithes  had  been  commuted  into  a 
land  tax  paid  by  the  landlord  class,  the  hostility  to  the 
Church  had  almost  wholly  gone  down  and  the  question 
excited  little  interest.  If  it  had  been  made  the  occasion 
of  a  large  system  of  concurrent  endowment  involving 
the  partial  payment  of  the  priests,  the  result  might  have 
been  different,  and  it  would  have  attained  an  object 
which  a  long  succession  of  the  wisest  English  statesmen 
had  desired.  Perhaps  even  at  this  late  period  and  for 
the  last  time  in  Irish  history  it  would  have  been  possible 
for  a  minister  of  commanding  power  to  have  carried 
such  a  measure  in  spite  of  its  unpopularity  with  British 
Nonconformists.  But  it  would  have  needed  a  disinter- 
ested as  well  as  a  strong  statesman  who  was  prepared  for 
such  an  object  to  risk  or  sacrifice  mucli  party  influence. 

I  have  already  in  this  book  expressed  my  opinion  of 


INTRODUCTION  ll 

the  Land  Act  of  1870,  and  of  the  other  agrarian  meas- 
ures of  Gladstone,  and  I  do  not  propose  to  enter  at 
length  into  the  later  phases  of  his  Irish  policy.  The 
Ministry  which  began  in  1880,  when  having  emerged 
from  his  temporary  retirement  he  rode  back  to  power 
on  the  Eastern  question,  was  marked,  among  other 
things,  by  the  reduction  of  the  franchise  in  the  agricul- 
tural districts  which  was  another  great  stride  in  the 
direction  of  Democracy,  but  the  troubles  in  Egypt  and 
the  fierce  anarchy  in  Ireland,  which  was  rather  increased 
than  diminished  by  the  Land  Act  of  1881,  threw  all 
other  questions  into  the  shade.  The  Ministry  fell  in 
the  summer  of  1885,  and  the  dissolution  at  the  end  of 
that  year  and  the  events  that  immediately  followed  are 
among  the  most  memorable  in  English  party  history. 
On  the  opinion  which  is  formed  of  the  conduct  of  Glad- 
stone during  that  period,  the  ultimate  verdict  of  history 
on  his  character  will  largely  depend.  As  is  well  known, 
he  went  to  that  election  with  an  urgent  appeal  to  the 
country  to  return  a  Liberal  majority  sufiiciently  strong 
to  make  him  independent  of  the  Conservatives  and  Par- 
nellites  combined.  At  this  time  neither  his  party,  nor 
the  country,  nor  such  intimate  colleagues  as  Bright, 
Lord  Hartington  and  Mr.  Chamberlain  ever  doubted 
that  he  was  a  convinced  and  determined  opponent  of 
Home  Eule  and  at  the  election  the  whole  body  of  the 
Irish  Nationalists  voted  against  the  Liberals.  The  re- 
sult of  the  election  was  that  although  the  Liberals  were 
more  numerous  than  the  Conservatives,  the  English 
parties  were  so  closely  balanced,  that  if  they  remained 
unchanged  and  in  their  old  attitude  of  hostility  it  was 
in  the  full  power  of  the  Irish  Nationalists  to  determine 
which  party  should  govern  the  country.  Within  a  few 
weeks  of  the  election  Gladstone  declared  himself  a  Home 
Kuler,  and  resolved  to  place  the  government  of  Ireland 


lii  INTKODUCTION 

in  the  hands  of  the  men  he  had  so  long  and  so  vehe- 
mently denounced  as  apostles  of  public  plunder  and 
inveterate  enemies  of  the  Empire. 

If  he  believed,  as  he  probably  did,  that  he  could  carry 
his  party  with  him  in  this  entirely  unexpected  change, 
it  was  a  strong  proof  of  his  confidence  in  the  strength 
of  party  discipline  and  in  the  overwhelming  influence 
of  his  own  great  personality.  If  he  had  succeeded  he 
would  have  obtained  by  the  assistance  of  his  new  allies 
such  a  majority  that,  for  a  time  at  least,  the  destinies 
of  the  Empire  would  have  been  in  his  hands.  The 
secession  of  a  great  body  of  the  most  respected  Liberals, 
under  the  guidance  of  Bright,  Chamberlain,  Lord  Derby, 
the  Duke  of  Argyle  and  Lord  Hartington,  defeated  his 
hopes.  An  amendment  on  the  address  brought  Glad- 
stone into  office  when  Parliament  reassembled  in  Jan- 
uary, 1886,  but  in  April  his  Home  Eule  Bill  was  in- 
troduced, in  June  it  was  defeated,  and  in  the  dissolution 
that  immediately  followed  the  country,  by  a  majority  of 
more  than  100  ratified  its  condemnation. 

From  this  time  he  was  the  most  passionate  of  Home 
Kulers.  Once  more,  in  1893,  he  obtained,  by  the  assist- 
ance of  the  Irish  vote,  a  short  period  of  precarious  power 
and  made  one  more  effort  to  carry  his  new  policy  into 
effect.  But  the  wand  of  the  enchanter  was  at  last 
broken.  A  government  which  depended  for  its  small 
majority  on  the  Irish  vote  had  no  power  to  coerce  the 
House  of  Lords  into  accepting  the  Bill,  and  in  1894  he 
finally  abandoned  the  House.  He  left  that  great  Party 
which  he  had  found  so  powerful  and  which  had  trusted 
him  so  largely,  mutilated,  dislocated  and  discredited, 
and  the  whole  working  of  party  government  in  Eng- 
land, in  consequence,  impaired. 

Yet  in  spite  of  all  defects  and  inconsistency  he  re- 
mained to  the  last  a  great  personality  in  English  poli- 


INTRODUCTION  liii 

tics,  and  the  belief  in  him  and  the  admiration  for  him 
among  vast  masses  of  his  countrymen  never  seriously 
diminished.  His  splendid  gifts,  his  long  services,  his 
indefatigable  energy,  his  deep  if  somewhat  ostentatious 
piety,  captivated  the  English  mind  and  he  who  began 
his  political  life  as  "  the  hope  of  the  unbending  tories  " 
closed  it  as  the  greatest  and  most  representative  figure  in 
the  democratic  movement.  The  democratic  transforma- 
tion of  English  politics  is  not,  it  is  true,  due  to  any  one 
statesman  or  one  party.  Some  of  its  most  powerful 
causes  lie  altogether  outside  the  range  of  Parliamentary 
politics  and  most  of  what  Gladstone  did  in  this  field 
would  have  been  done  if  he  had  never  lived ;  but  the 
ballot,  the  lowering  of  the  suffrage,  the  establishment 
of  a  cheap  press,  the  abolition  of  compulsory  Church 
rates  and  of  purchase  in  the  army,  the  foundation  of  a 
broad  systeni  of  national  Education  are  all  closely  asso- 
ciated with  him;  his  repeal  of  the  duties  on  many  arti- 
cles of  first  necessity  had  been  a  real  boon  to  the  suffer- 
ing poor,  and  he  was  the  first  English  minister  who  was 
accustomed,  on  a  large  scale,  to  bring  his  policy  in 
great  meetings  directly  upon  the  people.  He  was  one 
of  the  greatest  of  platform  speakers.  He  completely 
discarded  the  old  tradition  that  a  leading  minister  or 
ex-minister  should  confine  himself  almost  exclusively  to 
Parliamentary  utterances  and  should  only  on  rare  occa- 
sions address  the  public  outside.  He  delighted  in  plac- 
ing himself  in  touch  with  the  masses  of  his  fellow-coun- 
trymen. He  flew  from  platform  to  platform  with  an 
almost  dazzling  rapidity,  pouring  out  to  vast  audiences 
empassioned  appeals  which  seldom  failed  in  their  effect 
on  those  whom  he  addressed,  which  added  enormously 
to  the  depth  and  area  of  his  own  personal  popularity 
and  which  on  one  or  two  occasions  materially  modified 
the  course  of  national  opinion.     He  had  an  extraordi- 


liv  INTRODUCTION 

nary  influence  over  that  large  and  growing  class  in 
whose  politics  sentiment,  impulse,  enthusiasms  and  ad- 
mirations play  a  greater  part  than  serious  reasoning  and 
sober  calculations;  and  his  figure  gradually  assumed 
almost  mythical  proportions  in  the  popular  imagination. 
An  excessive  love  and  admiration  of  rhetoric  is  one  of 
the  diseases  to  which  democratic  communities  are  most 
liable,  and  few  men  have  done  more  to  stimulate  it  or 
have  more  largely  profited  by  it  than  Gladstone. 

The  strongest  characters  are  seldom  wholly  proof 
against  the  intoxicating  influence  of  the  constant  and 
enthusiastic  applause  of  vast  multitudes,  and  Gladstone, 
if  he  was  in  one  sense  one  of  the  strongest,  was  also  one 
of  the  most  impulsive  and  impressionable  of  men.  The 
Demagogue  in  his  nature  steadily  grew.  The  old  con- 
scientious scrupulosity  with  which  he  had  once  weighed 
his  words  manifestly  declined.  His  later  speeches  con- 
tain lamentable  attempts  to  create  class  warfare  by  set- 
ting the  "masses"  against  the  "classes";  attempts  to 
kindle  separatist  feelings  and  to  revive  old  discontents 
not  only  in  Ireland,  but  in  Scotland  and  Wales;  scanda- 
lous palliations  of  the  hideous  crimes  which  were  being 
perpetrated  in  Ireland  and  which  had  been  largely  in- 
stigated by  men  who  were  now  his  allies.  His  confi- 
dence in  himself  was  unbounded,  and  his  determination 
to  subordinate  all  other  considerations  to  his  Home  Kule 
policy  only  too  apparent.  He  lived  in  his  latter  years 
in  an  unhealthy  atmosphere  of  constant  publicity.  His 
simplest  movements  were  daily  chronicled  as  in  a  kind 
of  Court  Circular.  Excursion  trains  brought  crowds  to 
visit  his  house  and  even  to  hear  him  read  the  lessons  in 
his  Church.  The  trees  which  he  amused  himself  by 
cutting  down  became  an  object  of  eager  desire,  and  a 
somewhat  grotesque  relic  worship  grew  up.  It  was  car- 
ried to  such  a  point  that  a  printed  circular  was  issued 


INTRODUCTION  Iv 

at  Hawarden,  stating  that  in  consequence  of  the  appli- 
cations from  all  parts  of  the  country  requesting  chips 
from  trees  felled  by  Mr.  Gladstone,  "  it  has  been  found 
necessary  to  make  in  all  cases  a  uniform  charge  for  the 
wood  referred  to — namely  Is.  6d.  for  a  small  log  and  3s. 
per  cubic  foot,  exclusively  of  railway  carriage."  '  The 
newspapers  solemnly  chronicled  the  dimensions  of  the 
trees  that  were  felled  and  the  names  of  the  guests  who 
were  present.  He  was  consulted  on  all  subjects  and  his 
letters  and  post  cards  filled  the  newspapers.  He  was 
treated  as  a  kind,  of  advertisement  agent,  men  of  the 
most  various  kinds  who  wished  to  push  themselves  and 
their  wares  writing  to  him  and  printing  his  replies.  He 
lent  himself  too  readily  to  all  this  and  his  name  was 
kept  daily,  incessantly,  obtrusively  before  the  public. 

His  versatility  of  tastes  and  interests  and  his  amazing 
industry  continued  almost  to  the  last,  and  when  his 
voice  failed  him  his  pen  was  still  active.  Few  professed 
authors  have  written  more  or  more  variously.  Pam- 
phlets on  Kitualism,  on  Vaticanism,  on  Bulgarian  Atroci- 
ties— elaborate  books  in  defence  of  the  Christian  relig- 
ion, a  metrical  translation  of  Horace,  countless  articles 
of  the  most  miscellaneous  character  followed  each  other 
in  swift  succession.  Mere  expression,  whether  in  writ- 
ing or  speaking  seems  to  have  cost  him  nothing,  and  it 
was  characteristic  of  him  that  the  book  which  he  called 
his  "  Gleanings"  extended  to  some  seven  or  eight  vol- 


'Times,   Oct.  17,  1887.      Sir  raarck  if  he  had  any  message 

William    Richmond,   who    has  to  send  to  his  English  colleague, 

painted    both    Bismarck    and  "  Tell    him,"    was    the    reply, 

Gladstone,    was    once    visiting  "that  I  find  my   pleasure  in 

the  former  in  his  country  house  planting.     He  finds  his  in  cut- 

and  found  him  deeply  interested  ting   down."     It  was  certainly 

in  forestry.     In  the  course   of  not  of  trees  alone  that  the  great 

the  conversation  he  asked  Bis-  German  statesman  was  thinking. 


Ivi  INTRODUCTION 

umes.  Considering  the  life  he  led  the  literary  produc- 
tion of  his  last  years  is  truly  wonderful,  though  it  shews 
a  kind  of  intellect  that  was  much  more  wonderful  in 
quantity  than  in  quality.  Perhaps  the  nearest  modern 
parallel  to  his  many-sided  activity  and  to  his  astonish- 
ing copiousness  of  expression  is  to  be  found  in  Henry 
Brougham,  who  was  once  deemed  the  most  extraordi- 
nary of  Englishmen,  though  he  is  now  little  more  than 
a  name. 

It  was  happy  for  his  reputation  that  there  were  a  few 
quiet  years  between  his  retirement  from  party  politics 
and  the  end.  They  added  to  his  old  age  a  dignity  which 
had  been  sadly  wanting.  Animosities  went  down.  Men 
had  time  to  forget  much,  and  infirmities  and  sufferings 
borne  with  a  touching  humility  and  resignation  gave  a 
deep  pathos  to  the  closing  scene.  It  is  not  too  much  to 
say  that  no  Englishman  of  the  generation  was  followed 
to  the  grave  by  such  an  outburst  of  popular  emotion  or 
by  so  many  expressions  of  unqualified  and  extravagant 
admiration. 

Time  alone  places  men  and  things  in  their  true  per- 
spective and  it  is  only  when  the  papers  of  those  who 
had  worked  with  him  most  closely  in  public  life  have 
been  published  that  his  career  can  be  fully  judged. 
That  his  place  in  History  will  be  a  very  different  one 
from  that  which  his  recent  eulogists  have  assigned  him  I, 
at  least,  believe.  But  with  all  his  strength  and  weak- 
ness he  will  long  be  remembered  as  one  of  the  most 
prominent  and  interesting  figures  of  the  19th  century 
and  his  name  will  be  indissolubly  associated  with  some 
of  the  democratic  tendencies  which  it  is  the  object  of 
this  book  to  describe. 

October,  1898. 


PREFACE 


Man^y  years  ago,  when  I  was  deeply  immersed  in  the 
History  of  England  in  the  Eighteenth  Century,  I  re- 
member being  struck  by  a  saying  of  my  old  and  illus- 
trious friend,  Mr.  W.  R.  Greg,  that  he  could  not 
understand  the  state  of  mind  of  a  man  who,  when  so 
many  questions  of  burning  and  absorbing  interest  were 
rising  around  him,  could  devote  the  best  years  of  his 
life  to  the  study  of  a  vanished  past.  I  do  not  think 
the  course  I  was  then  taking  is  incapable  of  defence. 
The  history  of  the  past  is  not  without  its  uses  in 
elucidating  the  politics  of  the  present ,  and  in  an  age 
and  country  in  which  politicians  and  reformers  are 
abundantly  numerous,  it  is  not  undesirable  that  a  few 
men  should  persistently  remain  outside  the  arena. 
But  the  study  of  a  period  of  history  as  recent  as  that 
with  which  I  was  occupied  certainly  does  not  tend  to 
diminish  political  interests,  and  a  writer  may  be  par- 
doned if  he  believes  that  it  brings  with  it  kinds  of 
knowledge  and  methods  of  reasoning  that  may  be  of 
some  use  in  the  discussion  of  contemporary  questions. 

The  present  work  deals  with  a  large  number  of  these 
questions,  some  of  them  lying  in  the  very  centre  of 
party  controversies.  I  had  intended  to  introduce  it 
with  a  few  remarks  on  the  advantage  of  such  topics 
being  occasionally  discussed  by  writers  who  are  wholly 
unconnected  with  practical  politics,  and  who  might 
therefore  bring  to  them  a  more  independent  judgment 


Iviii  PREFACE 

and  a  more  judicial  temperament  than  could  be  easily 
found  in  active  politicians.  This  preface  I  cannot  now 
write.  At  a  time  when  the  greater  portion  of  my 
book  was  already  in  the  printers'  hands  an  unexpected 
request,  which  I  could  not  gratefully  or  graciously 
refuse,  brought  me  into  the  circle  of  parliamentary 
life.  But  although  my  own  position  has  been  altered, 
I  have  not  allowed  this  fact  to  alter  the  character  of 
my  book.  While  expressing  strong  opinions  on  many 
much-contested  party  questions,  I  have  endeavoured 
to  treat  them  with  that  perfect  independence  of  judg- 
ment, without  which  a  work  of  this  kind  can  have  no 
permanent  value.  Nor  have  I  thought  it  necessary  to 
cancel  a  passage  in  defence  of  university  representation 
in  general,  and  of  the  representation  of  Dublin  Uni- 
versity in  particular,  which  was  written  when  I  had  no 
idea  that  it  could  possibly  be  regarded  as  a  defence  of 
"my  own  position. 

One  of  the  principal  difficulties  of  a  book  dealing 
with  the  present  aspects  and  tendencies  of  the  political 
world  in  many  different  countries  lies  in  the  constant 
changes  in  the  subjects  that  it  treats.  The  task  of  the 
writer  is  often  like  that  of  a  painter  who  is  painting 
the  ever-shifting  scenery  of  the  clouds.  The  great 
tendencies  of  the  world  alter  slowly,  but  the  balance 
of  power  in  parliaments  and  constitutions  is  continu- 
ally modified,  and,  under  the  incessant  activity  of 
modern  legislation,  large  groups  of  subjects  are  con- 
stantly assuming  new  forms.  I  have  endeavoured  to 
follow  these  changes  up  to  a  very  recent  period  ;  but  in 
dealing  with  foreign  countries  this  is  sometimes  a  mat- 
ter of  no  small  difficulty,  and  I  trust  the  reader  will 
excuse  me  if  I  have  not  always  altogether  succeeded. 

London  :  February^  1896. 


CONTENTS 

OF 

THE  FIRST  VOLUME 


CHAPTER  I 

FASa 

English  Representative  Government  in  the  Eighteenth  Centwry 

Objects  to  be  attained „        .  2 

Taxation  and  representation        .                 ...  2 

Power  of  landed  property 3 

And  of  the  commercial  classes             ...  3 

Aristocratic  influence 3 

Diversities  in  the  size  of  constitueacies  and  qualification 

of  electors        .        .                ....  5 

The  small  boroughs .5 

Dislike  to  organic  change    .         ,  .7 

Merits  of  English  government  .  ...  8 
The  founders  of  the  American  Hepublic  aimed  at  the 

same  ends  ...  .  .  9 
Judge  Story  on  the  suffrage            .                                  .10 

Rousseau's  conception  of  government  essentially  dif- 
ferent        12 

Review  of  the  French  constitutions,  1789-1830               .  12 

Ascendency  of  the  middle  class  in  France,  1830-1848  15 

English  Reform  Bill  of  1832— Its  causes     ...  15 

Fears  it  excited  not  justified  by  the  event       .        .  20 

Place  of  the  middle  class  in  English  government  21 

The  period  from  1832  to  1867                                     .  21 

Votes  not  always  a  true  test  of  opinion                         .  21 

Motives  that  govern  the  more  ignorant  voters  23 

Dangers  of  too  great  degradation  of  the  suffrage  25 


Ix 


CONTENTS  OF  THE  FIRST  VOLUME 


Growth  of  Rousseau's  doctrine  in  England — The  Irish 

representation  ...                  27 

University  representation     ....  .28 

The  new  form  of  sycophancy 30 

Attacks  on  plural  voting      ......  30 

Equal  electoral  districts  .......  31 

Taxation  passing  wholly  under  the  control  of  numbers  32 

Successful  parliaments  mainly  elected  on  a  high  suffrage  33 

Instability  of  democracies 34 

When  they  are  least  dangerous 35 

French  Democracy 

Favourable  circumstances  under  which  it  has  been  tried  35 

Manhood  suffrage  in  1848    ...                 .        .  36 

Restricted  in  1850   .         .                  37 

Re-established  by  Louis  Napoleon — The    Coup   d'etat 

and  the  plebiscite 37 

Universal  suffrage  under  the  Second  Empire  ...  38 

Last  days  of  the  Empire      ......  39 

Democracy  and  the  Franco-German  War       ...  40 

The  Third  Republic 42 

Weakness  of  the  President     ....  42 

Decline  of  political  ideals    .                 ....  43 

Ministerial  instability      ....                  .        .  45 

The  permanent  service         ......  45 

The  Republic  and  liberty 47 

French  Finance,  1814-1870 49 

French  Finance  during  the  Republic       ....  64 

Forms  of  corruption  and  extravagance        ...  56 

Good  credit  of  France 58 

Financial  dangers 59 

Scherer  on  French  political  life      .        .        .        .        <  60 

Lowered  political  tone 62 

American  Democracy 

Characteristics  of  the  American  Constitution  ...  63 

Its  fraraers  dreaded  democracy 66 

Advantageous  circumstances  of  America        ...  67 
Growth  of  democratic  influence  in  the  Presidential  elec- 
tions   68 

Elections  for  the  Senate — Characteristics  of  that  body    .  69 

The  lowering  of  the  suffrage        .....  70 


CONTENTS  OP  THE  FIRST  VOLUME  Ixi 


Elected  judges        .  

The  '  Molly  Maguires  ' 

Corruption  of  the  judicature  .... 

Growth  of  the  spoils  system         .... 
Political  assessments  on  otfice-holders    .        .        . 
Connection  of  the  spoils  system  with  democracy 

American  party  warfare 

Attempts  to  restrict  the  spoils  system  .        . 

The  ballot  in  America 

Lax  naturalisation        .         .        .         .        . 

The  Know-Nothing  party 

The  Irish  vote 

Enfranchisement  of  negroes 

Corruption  in  New  York 

Municipal  corruption  general  in  the  great  cities      . 

Measures  of  Reform 

Judges  made  more  independent  .... 
Power  of  local  legislatures  limited  .         .        . 

Increased  authority  of  the  mayors       .        . 

Mr.  Bryce  on  American  corruption         .        .        . 

American  acquiescence  in  corruption 

The  best  life  apart  from  politics       .... 

Summary  by  Mr.  Bryce      ...... 

Protective  strength  of  the  Constitution    . 

American  optimism 

Influence  of  the  separation  of  Church  and  State  on  po- 
litical morals        ....... 

Public  spirit  during  the  War  of  Secession 
And  after  its  conclusion  .        .        .        . 

Excellence  of  general  legislation  in  the  United  States 
Tocquevillg's  judgments — Changes  since  he  wrote  . 
Corruption  in  railroad  management    .... 

Abolition  of  slavery — Its  influence  on  foreign  policy 
Intellectual  side  of  American  civilisation   . 
.    Democracy  not  favourable  to  the  higher  intellectual  life 

The  prospects  of  the  Republic 

Protection       ........ 

The  Pension  List 

Lessons  to  be  drawn  from  American  experience     . 


PAGE 

73 
74 
74 

78 
81 
83 
85 
86 
89 
90 
91 
92 
93 
95 
97 


101 

102 
105 

107 
113 
114 
115 
116 
118 


.118 
119 
120 
121 
122 
125 
126 
127 
131 
132 
133 
134 
136 


Ixii  CONTENTS  OF  THE  FIRST  VOLUME 

CHAPTER  II 

FA6B 

Majorities  required  in  different  nations  for  constitutional 

changes 137 

Attempt  to  introduce  the  two-thirds  majority  system  in 

New  South  Wales 138 

Small  stress  placed  in  England  on  legislative  machinery  138 

The  English  belief  in  government  by  gentlemen     .        .  140 
De'clining     efficiency     of    parliamentary    government 

throughout  Europe 142 

England  has  not  escaped  the  evil        ....  144 
Increasing  power  and  pretensions  of  the  House  of  Com- 
mons   145 

The  Parish  Councils  Bill  of  1894        ....  146 

Excess  of  parliamentary  speaking — Its  causes        .        .  146 

Its  effects  on  public  business      .....  149 

Growth  of  the  caucus  fatal  to  the  independence  of  the 

House  of  Commons      .......  149 

The  relation  of  the  House  to  Government — Disintegra- 
tion of  parties      ........  150 

Results  of  the  group  system       .         .        .        .        .  151 

Increase  of  log-rolling 153 

And  of  the  appetite  for  organic  change       .        .        .  153 

Both  parties  have  contributed  to  this       ....  154 

Conservatism  in  English  Radicalism   ....  155 

Growth  of  class  bribery           ......  155 

Rendered  easy  by  our  system  of  taxation  .         .         .  156 
Sir    Cornewall   Lewis  on   the  best  taxation — Indirect 

,      taxation 157 

Remissions  of  direct  taxation  sometimes  the  most  bene- 
ficial      158 

Exaggeration  of  Free  Trade — The  corn  registration  duty 

— The  London  coal  dues 159 

The  abolition  of  the  income  tax  made  an  election  cry  in 

1874— History  of  this  election 160 

Appeals  to  class  cupidity  by  the  Irish  Land  League    .  167 

Its  success  has  strengthened  the  tendency  to  class  bribery  167 

Irish  Land  Question 

Peculiar  difficulties  to  be  dealt  with  in  Ireland        .        .  167 

Tenants'  improvements 168 


CONTENTS  OP  THE  FIRST  VOLUME  Ixiii 

FAOB 

Sharman  Crawford's  proposals 169 

The  Devon  Commission 169 

Abortive  attempts  to  protect  improvements     .        .        .  171 

Land  Act  of  1860 171 

And  of  1870— Its  merits  and  demerits     ....  172 

Paucity  of    leases    and    tenants'    improvements — How 

viewed  in  Ireland         .        .         .         .         .        .         .  177 

Rents  in  Ireland  before  1870  not  generally  extortionate  178 
But  such  rents  did  exist,  and  most  tenancies  were  preca- 
rious   .        .        .      , 180 

I'he  Act  of  1881 182 

Absolute  ownership  of  land  under  the  Incumbered  Es- 
tates Act 182 

Circumstances  under  which  this  Act  had  been  carried — 

Its  nature    .........  182 

It  guaranteed  complete  ownership  under  a  parliamentary 

title     . 184 

Confiscation  of  Landlord  Rights  by  the  Act  of  1881.     The 

purchased  improvements 185 

Fixity  of  tenure  given  to  the  present  tenant        .         .  185 
Which  could  not  honestly  be  done  without  compensating 

the  owner    .........  186 

Inseparable  rights  of  ownership  destroyed          .         .  187 

The  New  Land  Court  and  its  proceedings        .         .         .  188 

*  Judicial  decisions  ' 190 

Eights  of  the  Legislature  over  landed  property — Mill     .  191 

Dishonest  character  of  Irish  land  legislation      .        .  192 

The  defence  of  the  Act  of  1881 193 

Misconception  of  its  effects         .....  194 

The  language  of  Mr.  Gladstone 195 

The  Act  failed  to  pacify  Ireland— Effects  of  the  Home 

Rule  agitation 197 

The  Land  Act  of  1887 198 

Tendency  of  subversive  principles  in  legislation  to  grow  200 
Landlord  claim  for  compensation    .         .         .         .         .201 
Effects  of  the  land  legislation  on  Irish  capital  and  con- 
tracts              202 

On  the  ultimate  position  of  tenants     ....  203 

Moral  effects  of  tliis  legislation       .....  204 

The  Evicted  Tenants  Bill  .,,..•  206 


Ixiv  CONTENTS  OF  THE  FIRST  VOLUME 

FAGK 

The  worst  form  of  robbery,  legal  robbery       .        .        .  209 

Dangers  of  the  Irish  precedent 210 

Mr.   George's  comparison  of  Irish  and  American  land- 
lordism          210 

Where  should  State  intervention  stop  ?      .        .        .  212 

Other  Attacks  on  Property 

Theories  of  Mr.  George 212 

Mill's  doctrine  of  the  '  unearned  increment '      .        .  213 

English  land  no  longer  the  source  of  English  food          .  216 

Attacks  on  national  debts   .         .         .        .        .        .  216 

On  mining  royalties         .         •         .         .         .        .         .218 

On  literary  property  ....                  .         .  218 

Nationalisation  of  railroads,  &c.      .....  220 

Cautions  in  dealing  with  such  questions — Is  democracy 

suited  to  the  task? 222 

The  worship  of  majorities       .         .                  ...  223 

Old  and  New  Jesuitism 224 

Influence  of  philosophical  speculation  on  politics    .        .  225 
Character  in  public  life — How  far  democratic  election 

secures  it          .                 226 

The  Home  Rule  alliance — Compared  with  the  coalition 

of  North  and  Fox 228 

Effects  of  the  lowering  of  the  suffrage  on  political  mo- 
rality          229 

And  of  the  increased  hurry  of  modern  life      .        .        .  230 

Personal  and  class  interests  in  politics          .         .         .  230 

Inadequate  sense  of  the  criminality  of  political  misdeeds  231 

The  ethics  of  party 233 

Nonconformist  ministers  and  Mr.  Parnell    .         .         .  236 
Relative  importance  of  private   and  public   morals  in 

politics 237 

Growth  of  the  professional  politician  ....  238 

Democratic  local  government — Its  good  and  evil    .         .  238 

Place  of  wealth  in  modern  politics       ....  240 

Measures  that  must  strengthen  the  professional  politician  241 

High  standard  of  political  integrity  in  Great  Britain        .  242 

Probity  of  the  permanent  service          ....  243 

Better  side  of  the  House  of  Commons     ....  243 

Competitive  examinations — Their  drawbacks       .         .  243 

Their  great  use  in  restraining  corruption        .        .        .  246 


CONTENTS  OF  THE  FIRST  VOLUME  Ixv 

PAaB 
The  character  of  a  nation  not  always  shown  by  its  public 

life 246 

Evidence  that  English  character  has  not  declined — Its 

moral  and  philanthropic  side        .        .                  .         .  247 

Its  robuster  qualities 249 

The  governing  capacity — Egypt  and  India      .         .         .  249 

Dangers  to  India  in  democratic  government       .         .  250 

High  character  of  English  municipal  government  .         .  252 

Political  influence  of  the  provincial  towns          .         .  252 

Influence  of  the  telegraph  on  politics — Provincial  press  .  253 

Modern  England  not  barren  in  great  men  .        .         .  254 


CHAPTER  III 

Democracy  an  inevitable  fact 256 

Is  not  uniformly  favourable  to  liberty        .         .         .  256 

Illustrations  from  Roman  and  French  history  .         .  256 

Equality  naturally  hostile  to  liberty   ....  256 

Love  of  democracy  for  authoritative  regulation       .         .  257 
Effects  of  the  increase  of  State  power — Taxation  and 

liberty 258 

Other  dangers  to  liberty 259 

Party  system  hastened  the  transformation  .        .        .  260 

Some  Suggested  Remedies 

Change  in  the  Irish  representation 261 

Class  representation — Its  history  and  decline     .        .  264 

Representation  of  minorities  ......  266 

An  educational  franchise 272 

Mill's  suggestions  for  mitigating  dangers  of  universal  suf- 
frage      273 

Repudiated  by  modern  Radicalism — The  '  fancy '  fran- 
chises               ....  276 

The  Swiss  Referendum— Its  history  and  influence  .         .  277 

Its  recent  adoption  in  the  United  States      .         .         .  280 

Attempt  to  introduce  it  into  Belgium      ....  285 

Arguments  for  and  against  it 286 

Belief  that  a  low  suffrage  is  naturally  conservative  .  293 

Extension  of  the  power  of  committees         .         .         •  294 

The  American  committee  system 295 


Ixvi  CONTENTS  OF  THE  FIRST  VOLUME 

PAGE 

The  French  system 297 

English  parliamentary  committees — Devolution      .        .297 
Proposal  that  Governments  should  only  resign  on  a  vote 

of  want  of  confidence      ......  299 

Arguments  against  it 299 

Probability  that  democratic  Parliaments  will  sink  in 

power 300 

Democratic  local  government — Success  of  English  local 

government  ........  301 

Largely  due  to  property  qualifications        .         .         .  302 
Almost  all  of  them  now  abolished — Act  of  1894      .         .  303 
This  is  the  more  serious  on  account  of  the  great  in- 
crease in  taxation 303 

The  local  debt         . 304 

Increase  of  State  Taxation  in  Europe — Its  Causes 

Military  expenditure — Standing  armies       .         .         .  305 
Buckle's  prediction  of  the  decline  of  wars       .         .         .  307 
The  commercial  spirit  now  favours  territorial  aggran- 
disement         .  308 

Growing  popularity  of  universal  military  serVice    .        .  309 

Arguments  in  its  defence    ......  309 

Importance  of  the  question  to  the  English  race       .        .  312 

Arguments  against  it  .         .         .         .         .         .         .  312 

Conscription  and  universal  suffrage  connected  .  .  315 
But  the  military  system  may  come  into  collision  with  the 

parliamentary  system 316 

National  education — Its  social  and  political  effects  .  317 

Primary  education  assuming  the  character  of  secondary 

education        ........  322 

Sanitary  reform 323 

Reformatories  and  prison  reform  ....  327 
Increased  taxation  due  to  increased  State  regulation — 

Herbert  Spencer's  views 328 

Necessity  for  some  extension  of  State  control    .        .  329 

Advantages  of  State  action  in  some  fields  .  .  .  330 
Government    credit — Enterprises    remunerative  to  the 

State 331 

Unremunerative  forms  of  literature  and  art    .         .        .  332 


CONTENTS  OF  THE  FIRST  VOLUME  Ixvii 

,  PAGE 

Subsidies  to  the  theatre 333 

Dangers  of  State  regulation  and  subsidies  .  .  .  333 
Change  in  the   character  of  democracy  since  Joseph 

Hume 335 

Motives  that  have  led  to  State  aggrandisement       .        .  335 

Mr.  Goschen  on  its  extent 335 

Attempts  to  push  it  still  further — The  Manchester  school 

repudiated 337 

Tendency  to  throw  all  taxation  on  one  class       .        .  337 
Tocqueville  and  Young  on  English  taxes  in  the  eigh- 
teenth century 337 

Progressive  taxes  of  Pitt 338 

Abolition  of  taxes  on  the  necessaries  of  life   .         .         .  339 

Bentham,  Mill,  and  Montesquieu  on  exempted  incomes  339 

Lord  Derby's  description  of  English  taxation  .  .  340 
Taxation  mainly  on  the  rich  and  chiefly  for  the  benefit 

of  the  poor 340 

Adam  Smith  on  the  rules  for  taxation         .        .        .  341 

Thiers  on  the  same  subject 341 

Advantages  of  taxation  of  luxuries  ....  343 
Growing  popularity  of  graduated    taxation — Its  early 

history 343 

Taxation  in  Switzerland 344 

In  the  Netherlands,  New  Zealand,  France,  and  the  United 

States 345 

Arguments  against  graduated  taxation        .         .         .  346 

Probability  that  it  will  increase       .         .         .         .        ^  349 

Its  effect  on  the  disposition  of  landed  property  .        .  349 

On  the  position  and  habits  of  the  upper  classes       .        .  350 

On  personal  property 354 

Wealth  dissociated  from  duties 355 

Democracy  not  indifferent  to  wealth  ....  369 

CHAPTER  IV 

ARISTOCRACIES   AND  UPPER  CHAMBERS 

Dangers  of  government  by  a  single  Chamber         .        .  361 

Countries  where  it  exists 363 

Lessons  derived  from  the  Commonwealth       .        .        .  364 


Ixviii  CONTENTS  OF  THE  FIRST  VOLUME 

PAGE 

From  the  United  States 364 

From  France 364 

Early  History  of  the  House  of  Lords 

Effects  of  the  Reformation  and  the  Rebellion    .        .  365 

Of  the  Revolution  of  1688 365 

Importance  of  the  small  boroughs  in  sustaining  its  in- 
fluence   366 

The  Peerage  Bill  of  Stanhope 366 

The  Scotch  Union 367 

The  Resolution  of  1711 367 

Creations  of  George  III.— The  Irish  Union        .         .  368 

Position  of  the  spiritual  peers 369 

The  House  of  Lords  under  George  III.  not  unpopular  370 

Power  of  personal  interest  on  its  members  before  1832  .  371 

Their  influence  in  the  House  of  Commons           .         .  373 

Attitude  of  the  peers  towards  the  Reform  Bill  of  1832    .  373 

Change  in  their  position  effected  by  the  Bill       .         •  374 
Importance  of  the  House  of  Lords  in  making  legislation 

harmonise  with  tlie  popular  will  .....  374 
In  diminishing  the  too  great  influence  of  party  in  legis- 
lation         375 

In  protecting  minorities 376 

Its  ecclesiastical  policy 376 

Its  general  moderation 378 

Attacks  on  the  Lords  after  the  Reform  Bill  of  1832   .  378 

The  Hereditary  Element 

Advantages  of  special  education  for  politics    .        .         .  379 
Influences  that  maintain  the  character  of  the  British 

aristocracy 380 

Their  energy  and  power  of  adaptation    ....  386 

Large  amount  of  ability  among  them          .         .         .  386 

Advantages  the  nation  derives  from  an  aristocracy          .  387 

Representative  character  of  the  House  of  Lords         .  889 
Popularity  of  the  aristocracy  in  England        .        .        .391 

Its  good  and  evil  sides 392 

Aristocracy  and  plutocracy 392 

Debility  and  apathy  of  the  House  of  Lords        .        .  398 


CONTENTS  OF  THE  FIRST   VOLUME  Ixix 

FAQE 

Causes  of  its  Debility 

The  small  quorum — Proxies 399 

Discouraging  influences  in  the  House  .  .  .  400 
Jealousy  of  the  House  of  Commons  of  Bills  originating 

in  the  Lords 402 

Financial  impotence  of  the  Lords       ....  402 

Sole  right  of  the  Commons  to  originate  Money  Bills  .  403 
The  Lords    deprived  of  their  old  right  of  amending 

them   .        . 403 

Difficulty  of  maintaining  this  rule — Its  relaxation       .  404 

The  right  of  rejecting  Money  Bills          ....  406 

Repeal  of  the  paper  duties  in  1860  ....  407 
The  different  provisions  of  the  Budget  combined  iu  one 

Bill 413 

Connection  of  ta:xation  and  representation          .         .  414 

Powers  of  foreign  Senates  over  finance  ....  415 
Dangers  of  the  concentration  of  all  financial  power  in 

one  House — Its  mitigations  in  England  .         .         .  415 

The  House  of  Lords  cannot  overthrow  Ministers    .        .  416 

lis  Judical  Functions 

Its  origin  and  abuses 417 

Attempts  to  make  lawyers  life  peers        ....  419 

The  peerage  of  Lord  Wensleydale  (1856)   ...  419 

Later  attempts  to  create  life  peers  .....  422 

Lord  Selborne's  Court  of  Appeal  (1873)  ...  423 
Lord    Cairns's    new  Appellate    Court  in   the  House  of 

Lords 423 

Success  of  this  measure 424 

Its  modification  in  1887 424 

Excessive  and  increasing  number  of  new  peerages         .  425 

Elements  from  which  they  are  drawn         .                  .  426 

Imperfect  recognition  of  non-political  eminence     .        .  428 

One-sided  political  influence  in  the  House  of  Lords   .  430 

This  fact  a  recent  one — Its  causes 432 

Parliamentary  history,  1892-1895       ....  432 

The  crusade  against  the  Lords 433 

The  election  of  1895,  and  its  lessons  ....  436 


Ixx  CONTENTS  OF  THE  FIRST  VOLUME 

PASS 

The  importance  of  a  reform  of  the  House  of  Lords  not 

diminished 438 

Foreign  Upper  Houses 

The  Roman  Senate 439 

The  Senate  of  the  United  States     .        .        .        .        .  440 

The  French  Senate 448 

The  German  Bundesrath 449 

Upper  Houses  in  Prussia  and  Austria         .        •        .  451 

In  Italy 452 

In  Spain  and  Switzerland 452 

In  the  Netherlands 464 

In  Belgium 454 

Colonial  Constitutions 

Their  general  character 456 

The  Canadian  Senate 456 

The  Newfoundland  Constitution         ....  457 

African  colonial  Governments — The  island  colonies        .  457 

Upper  Chambers  in  Australia  and  New  Zealand         .  458 

Proposals  for  reforming  the  House  of  Lords 

Advantages  of  retaining  a  limited  hereditary  element .  459 

Life  peers 462 

Proposals  for  a  larger  introduction  of  the  representative 

principle 462 

The  limitation  of  the  veto 464 

Right  of  ministers  to  sit  in  both  Houses     .        .        .  466 

Advantages   and  disadvantages  of  carrying  unfinished  468 

legislation  into  a  second  session 

This  should  at  least  be  done  in  the  case  of  amendments 

in  the  Lords 470 


CHAPTER  V 

NATIONALITIES 

Changes  in  the  basis  of  international  politics  .        .        .    471 
The  rights  of  nationalities  in  the  French  Revolution  .  472 

Completely  ignored  after  the  fall  of  Napoleon        .        .    472 


CONTENTS   OP  THE   FIRST   VOLUME  Ixxi 

FAGS 

Signs  of  revival  before  1830 — ^French  Bevolation  of  that 

year 473 

And  of  1848 473 

Italian  writers  on  nationality 474 

Nationality  not  necessarily  a  democratic  idea          .        .  476 

Ambiguities  about  the  elements  that  constitute  it       .  476 

Plebiscites 478 

Good  and  evil  sides  of  the  doctrine  of  nationalities    .  479 

Not  applicable  to  uncivilized  nations       ....  480 

Plebiscites  frequently  deceptive          ....  480 
Dangers  of  pushing  the  nationality  doctrine  to  its  full 

consequences 481 

America  a  Test  Case 

Its  annexations 483 

The  secession  of  the  South 484 

Analysis  of  English  opinion  on  the  War  of  Secession  .  485 

The  Northern  case  for  repressing  the  revolt   .         .         .  489 
Nearly  all  European  predictions  about  the  war  proved 

false 490 

The  Italian  Question 

Impulse  it  gave  to  the  doctrine  of  nationalities        .        .  490 

Invasions  of  Naples  and  Rome   .         .         .         .        •  491 

The  Peace  of  Villafranca  and  the  Roman  question          .  492 

The  Italian  policy  of  England 493 

Lord  J. -Russeirs  estimate  of  the  plebiscites  ...  494 

Success  of  the  English  policy 495 

Policy  of  Napoleon  III 496 

And  of  England 497 

The  unity  of  Italy  dearly  purchased       ....  498 

The  unity  of  Germany — The  agglomeration  of  race  ele- 
ments    500 

Conflicting  tendencies  towards  agglomeration  and  to- 
wards local  unities  .......  501 

Increased  value  attached  to  national  languages       .        .  501 

The  military  system  accentuates  national  differences  ,  502 
DiflBculties  of  reconciling  local  aspirations  with  imperial 

interests 502 

Influences  that  are  weakening  the  nationalist  spirit   .  504 


Ixxii  CONTENTS   OF  THE   FIRST   VOLUME 

PASS 

CHAPTER  VI 

DEMOCRACY   AND    RELIGIOUS   LIBERTY 

Nations  differ  in  their  conceptions  of  liberty  and  in  the 
kinds  of  liberty  they  value  ......     505 

Importance  of  taking  stock  of  our  conceptions  of  liberty    509 

Religious  Freedom 

Its  growth  in  English  law 509 

And  in  public  opinion — Causes  of  increased  tolerance     ,  510 
Contrast  between  Catholic  opinion  in  England  and  that 

in  Rome  and  Canada        ......  511 

Abolition  of    religious  disqualifications  in  the  United 

States 513. 

In  France 513 

In  Belgium,  and  Prussia         .         .         ....  514 

Slow  progress  of  the  movement  in  England — The  Catho- 
lic question 514 

Disqualifications  of  Nonconformists,  Jews,  Atheists,  &c., 

gradually  abolished          .         .         .         .         .         .  514 

Higher  education  thrown  open  to  Dissenters — Its  effects  515 
The  Established  Church — Arguments  for  and  against  it 

changed       .         .      '  .         .         .         .         .         .         .  519 

The  modern  case  for  an  establishment        .         .         .  520 

Strengthened  by  abolition  of  disqualifications         .         .  522 
Enlargement  of  the  limits  of  the  Church — Relation  of 

Nonconformists  to  it        .         .         .         .         .         .  522 

Subscription  to  Articles  —  Indelibility   of  orders — De- 
cisions of  Privy  Council 524 

Decline  of  intolerance  in  Continental  legislations      .  525 

Sweden  and  Austria ■  526 

Spain  and  Portugal     .......  527 

Limitation  or  modification  of  religious  liberty        .        .  529 


India 


Early  religious  policy  of  the  East  India  Company      .  530 

Admission  of  missionaries  in  1813  .         .         .         .         .  531 

Prohibition  of  infanticide  and  human  sacrifices  .  632 

Abolition  of  the  suttee 532 


CONTENTS   OP  THE  FIRST   VOLUME  Ixxiii 

PAGB 

Attitude  of  Government  towards  caste  and  idolatrous 

worship 635 

Measures  of  1833  and  1838 535 

Changes  in  the  laws  of  inheritance  and  marriage        .  536 

Memorandum  of  Colonel  Herbert  Edwardes  .        .        .  537 

Queen's  Proclamation  in  1858 537 

Philanthropic  tendencies  hostile  to  the  old  beliefs  .         .  538 

Indian  education  and  its  effects 539 

iformonism 

Polygamy  not  its  original  doctrine 540 

Early  history  of  Mormonism 540 

Murder  of  Joseph  Smith 542 

Emigration  to  the  Salt  Lake 542 

Utah  becomes  an  American  Territory — Its  early  history  543 

Should  polygamy  be  tolerated? 545 

Congress  undertakes  to  stamp  it  out  ....  547 

■  The  Edmunds  law 548 

Other  measures  against  polygamy       ....  550 

Conflicting  opinions  about  their  success  ....  552 

Influences  within  Mormonism  hostile  to  polygamy     .  553 

Polygamy  abandoned  by  the  Mormons    ....  554 

Utah  made  a  State 556 

Anglo-Saxon  democracy  favourable  to  religious  liberty  .  557 

The  sentiment  of  nationality  sometimes  hostile  to  it  .  557 

The  Anti-Semite  movement 558 

The  Russian  persecution 559 


DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY 


CHAPTEE  I 

The  most  remarkable  political  characteristic  of  the  lat- 
ter part  of  the  nineteenth  century  has  unquestionably 
been  the  complete  displacement  of  the  centre  of  power 
in  free  governments,  and  the  accompanying  changes  in 
the  prevailing  theories  about  the  principles  on  which 
representative  government  should  be  based.  It  has 
extended  over  a  great  part  of  the  civilised  world,  and, 
although  it  has  had  all  the  effects  of  a  profound  and 
far-reaching  revolution,  it  has,  in  some  of  the  most 
conspicuous  instances,  been  effected  without  any  act  of 
violence  or  any  change  in  the  external  framework  of 
government.  I  have  attempted  in  another  work  to  de- 
scribe at  length  the  guiding  principles  on  which  the 
English  parliamentary  government  of  the  eighteenth 
century  was  mainly  based,  and  which  found  their  best 
expression  and  defence  in  the  writings  of  Burke.  It 
was  then  almost  universally  held  that  the  right  of 
voting  was  not  a  natural  right,  but  a  right  conferred 
by  legislation  on  grounds  of  expediency,  or,  in  other 
words,  for  the  benefit  of  the  State.  As  the  House  of 
Commons  had  been,  since  the  Eevolution  of  1688,  the 
most  powerful  element  of  the  Constitution,  nothing  in 
the  Constitution  was  deemed  more  important  than  the 
efficiency  of  the  machine,  and  measures  of  parliament- 

VOL.  I.  1 


2  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  L 

ary  reform  were  considered  good  or  bad  exactly  in  pro- 
portion as  they  conduced  to  this  end.  The  objects  to 
be  attained  were  very  various,  and  they  were  best  at- 
tained by  a  great  variety  and  diversity  of  representa- 
tion. It  was  necessary  to  bring  together  a  body  of 
men  of  sufficient  intelligence  and  knowledge  to  exercise 
wisely  their  great  power  in  the  State.  It  was  necessary 
to  represent,  and  to  represent  in  their  due  proportions, 
the  various  forms  and  tendencies  of  political  opinion 
existing  in  the  nation.  It  was  necessary  to  represent 
with  the  same  completeness  and  proportion  the  various 
and  often  conflicting  class  interests,  so  that  the  wants 
of  each  class  might  be  attended  to  and  the  grievances 
of  each  class  might  be  heard  and  redressed.  It  was  also 
in  the  highest  degree  necessary  that  the  property  of 
the  country  should  be  specially  and  strongly  repre- 
sented. Parliament  was  essentially  a  machine  for  tax- 
ing, and  it  was  therefore  right  that  those  who  paid 
taxes  should  have  a  decisive  voice,  and  that  those  who 
chiefly  paid  should  chiefly  control.  The  indissoluble 
connection  between  taxation  and  representation  was 
the  very  mainspring  of  English  conceptions  of  freedom. 
That  no  man  should  be  taxed  except  by  his  own  con- 
sent was  the  principle  which  was  at  the  root  of  the 
American  Eevolution.  It  was  the  chief  source  of  all 
extensions  of  representative  government,  and  it  was 
also  the  true  defence  of  the  property  qualifications  and 
voting  privileges  which  concentrated  the  chief  power 
in  the  hands  of  the  classes  who  were  the  largest  tax- 
payers. No  danger  in  representative  government  was 
deemed  greater  than  that  it  should  degenerate  into  a 
system  of  veiled  confiscation  —  one  class  voting  the 
taxes  which  another  class  was  compelled  to  pay. 

It  was  also  a  fundamental  principle  of  the  old  system 
of  representation  that  the  chief  political  power  should 


en.  I.  ARISTOCRATIC  INFLUENCE  3 

be  with  the  owners  of  land.  The  doctrine  that  the 
men  to  whom  the  hind  belonged  were  the  men  who 
ought  to  govern  it  was  held,  not  only  by  a  great  body 
of  English  Tories,  but  also  by  Benjamin  Franklin  and 
by  a  large  section  of  the  American  colonists.  It  was 
urged  that  the  freeholders  had  a  fixed,  permanent,  in- 
alienable interest  in  the  country,  widely  different  from 
the  migratory  and*  often  transient  interests  of  trade 
and  commerce ;  that  their  fortunes  were  much  more 
indissolubly  blended  with  the  fortunes  of  the  State  ; 
that  they  represented  in  the  highest  degree  that  healthy 
continuity  of  habit  and  policy  which  is  most  essential 
to  the  well-being  of  nations.  As  Burke,  however,  ob- 
served, the  introduction  of  the  borough  representation 
showed  that  the  English  Legislature  was  not  intended 
to  be  solely  a  legislature  of  freeholders.  The  commer- 
cial and  trading  interests  had  also  their  place  in  it,  and 
after  the  Revolution  that  place  became  exceedingly 
great.  It  .was  strengthened  by  the  small  and  venal 
boroughs,  which  were  largely  in  the  hands  of  men  who 
had  acquired  great  fortunes  in  commerce  or  trade. 
The  policy  of  the  Ee volution  Government  was,  on  the 
whole,  more  decidedly  directed  by  commercial  views 
than  by  any  others,  and  it  was  undoubtedly  the  small 
boroughs  which,  during  the  first  half  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  mainly  kept  the  Hanoverian  family  on  the 
throne. 

Aristocratic  influence  in  the  Constitution  was  always 
very  great,  though  it  was  never  absolute.  The  House 
of  Commons  after  the  Eevolution  was  a  stronger  body 
than  the  House  of  Lords.  The  most  powerful  minis- 
ters of  the  eighteenth  century  were  commoners.  Great 
popular  movements  in  the  country  never  failed  to  in- 
fluence the  Legislature,  though  they  acted  less  promptly 
and  less  decisively  than  in  later  periods.     On  the  other 


4  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

hand,  a  considerable  proportion  of  the  members  of  the 
House  of  Commons  were  returned  by  members  of  the 
House  of  Lords,  and  nearly  every  great  family  had  at 
least  one  representative  in  the  Commons.  The  aris- 
tocracy formed  a  connecting  link  between  the  smaller 
country  gentry  and  the  trading  and  industrial  inter- 
ests. Like  the  latter,  but  unlike  the  former,  they 
were  usually  supporters  of  the  system  of  government 
established  by  the  Eevolution,  of  the  Whig  interest, 
and  of  the  Hanoverian  dynasty.  They  possessed  in 
many  cases  great  fortunes  in  money ;  they  had  wider 
interests  and  more  cosmopolitan  tastes  than  the  ordi- 
nary country  gentlemen ;  and  they  shared  with  the 
commercial  classes  the  ascendency  in  the  boroughs.  A 
few  of  them  had  risen  from  those  classes,  or  were  con- 
nected with  them  by  marriage  ;  while,  on  the  other 
hand,  they  were  the  chief  landowners,  the  natural 
leaders  of  the  landowning  classes. 

It  was  contended  that  this  system  secured  the  har- 
mony between  the  two  branches  of  the  Legislature,  and 
that  aristocratic  ascendency  brought  with  it  many 
other  advantages.  The  possession  of  land,  more  than 
any  other  form  of  property,  is  connected  with  the  per- 
formance of  public  duties,  and  the  great  landowner 
was  constantly  exercising  in  his  own  district  governing 
and  administrative  functions  that  were  peculiarly  fitted 
to  give  him  the  kind  of  knowledge  and  capacity  that  is 
most  needed  for  a  legislator.  Men  of  this  class  may, 
have  many  faults,  but  they  are  at  least  not  likely  in 
the  management  of  public  affairs  to  prove  either  reck- 
less and  irresponsible  adventurers  or  dishonest  trustees. 
To  say  this  may  not  appear  to  be  saying  very  much  ; 
but  a  country  which  has  succeeded  in  having  its  public 
affairs  habitually  managed  with  integrity,  and  with  a 
due  sense  of  responsibility,  will  have  escaped  evils  that 


CH.  I.  AKISTOCRATIC  INFLUENCE  6 

have  wrecked  the  prosperity  of  many  nations.  It  was 
urged,  above  all,  that  the  place  which  the  aristocracy 
exercised  in  the  Legislature  had  at  least  the  advantage 
of  reflecting  the  true  facts  and  conditions  of  English 
life.  In  each  county  a  great  resident  noble  is  com- 
monly the  most  important  man.  He  influences  most 
largely  the  lives  and  happiness  of  the  inhabitants, 
takes  the  leading  part  in  local  movements,  exercises  by 
general  consent  a  kind  of  superintendence  and  pre- 
cedence among  his  neighbours.  It  was  therefore  per- 
fectly in  accordance  with  the  principles  of  representa- 
tive government  that  his  class  should  exercise  a 
somewhat  corresponding  influence  in  the  Legislature. 

In  order  to  attain  these  various  ends  the  House  of 
Commons  was  elected  in  a  manner  which  showed  the 
most  complete  ■  absence  of  uniformity  and  symmetry. 
There  were  great  differences  both  in  the  size  of  the 
constituencies  and  in  the  nature  of  the  qualifications. 
In  many  places  members  were  returned  by  a  single  man 
or  by  a  small  group  of  often  venal  freemen.  In  other 
constituencies  there  was  a  strong  popular  element,  and 
in  some  places  the  scot-and-lot  franchise  approached 
nearly  to  universal  suffrage.  The  difference  of  the 
political  power  vested  in  an  individual  voter  in  differ- 
ent parts  of  the  country  was  enormously  great,  and 
even  the  House  of  Commons  was  only  very  partially  a 
representative  body.  '  About  one  half  of  the  House  of 
Commons,^  wrote  Paley,  ^obtain  their  seats  in  that  As- 
sembly by  the  election  of  the  people  ;  the  other  half, 
by  purchase  or  by  nomination  of  single  proprietors  of 
great  estates." 

The  large  share  in  the  representative  body  which  was 
granted  to  the  two  latter  classes  of  members  was  de- 


'  Moral  Philosophy^  ii.  218. 


6  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

fended  by  many  arguments.  It  was  said,  with  truth, 
that  the  small  boroughs  had  introduced,  and  usually  at 
an  early  age,  into  Parliament  by  far  the  greater  num- 
ber of  the  men  of  extraordinary  ability  who  have 
adorned  it,  and  also  many  useful  and  experienced  men, 
not  quite  in  the  first  rank,  who  from  narrow  circum- 
stances, or  from  the  turn  of  their  own  characters,  or 
from  some  unpopular  religious  belief,  or  from  the  fact 
that  they  had  spent  much  of  their  lives  in  obscure  or 
remote  fields  of  public  duty,  would  never  have  been 
acceptable  candidates  in  a  popular  constituency.  To 
ministries  they  were  of  the  utmost  value.  They  gave 
a  busy  minister  a  secure  and  independent  seat  free 
from  all  local  demands  and  complications,  enabled  him 
to  devote  his  undivided  energies  to  the  administration 
of  the  country,  and  made  it  easy  for  him  to  bring  into 
Parliament  any  colleague  or  valuable  supporter  who 
had  failed  at  an  election,  and  was  perhaps  under  a 
cloud  of  transient  unpopularity.  In  the  eyes,  too,  of 
the  best  thinkers  of  the  eighteenth  century  it  was  of 
the  utmost  importance  that  members  of  Parliament 
should  not  sink  into  simple  delegates.  On  the  broad 
lines  and  principles  of  their  policy  it  was  understood 
that  they  should  reflect  the  sentiments  of  their  con- 
stituents ;  but  the  whole  system  of  parliamentary  gov- 
ernment, in  the  opinion  of  Burke  and  most  other 
eighteenth  -  century  statesmen,  would  degenerate  if 
members  were  expected  to  abdicate  their  independent 
judgments,  to  submit  to  external  dictation  about  the 
details  of  measures,  to  accept  the  position  of  mere  pup- 
pets pulled  by  demagogues  or  associations  outside  the 
House.  The  presence  in  Parliament  of  a  large  body  of 
men  who  did  not  owe  their  position  to  popular  favour 
secured  an  independent  element  in  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, and  affected  the  tone  of  the  whole  assembly. 


OH.  I.  THE  ENGLISH  CONSTITUTION  7 

The  boro'ugh  system,  also,  concentrating  power  in  a 
few  hands,  greatly  strengthened  ministries.  It  gave 
them  a  steady,  calculable  force,  which  in  many  circum- 
stances, but  especially  in  their  foreign  policy,  was  often 
of  inestimable  value.  Fluctuations  of  power  were  less 
frequent,  less  violent,  less  capricious  than  they  after- 
wards became.  Ministers  could  count  more  confidently 
on  persistent  parliamentary  support  in  lines  of  policy 
of  which  the  rewards  were  only  to  be  looked  for  in  a 
distant  future  ;  amid  the  chequered  fortunes  and  the 
ever-changing  aspects  of  a  great  struggle. 

This  system  of  representation  was  supported  and 
consolidated  by  a  tone  of  political  feeling  which  has  so 
completely  passed  away  that  it  is  somewhat  difficult  to 
realise  the  power  which  it  once  possessed — I  mean  that 
strong  indisj)osition  to  organic  change,  as  distinguished 
from  administrative  reform,  which  the  best  statesmen 
of  all  parties  continually  inculcated.  They  were  usually 
ready  to  meet  practical  evils  as  they  arose,  but  they 
continually  deprecated  any  attempt  to  tamper  with  the 
legislative  machine  itself,  except  under  the  most  im- 
perious necessity.  They  believed  that  the  system  of 
the  Constitution  had  grown  up  insensibly  in  accord- 
ance with  the  wants  of  the  nation  ;  that  it  was  a  highly 
complex  and  delicate  machine,  fulfilling  many  differ- 
ent purposes  and  acting  in  many  obscure  and  far- 
reaching  ways,  and  that  a  disposition  to  pull  it  to 
pieces  in  the  interests  of  some  theory  or  speculation 
would  inevitably  lead  to  the  destruction  of  parliamen- 
tary government.  A  great  part  of  its  virtue  lay  in  the 
traditionary  reverence  that  surrounded  it,  in  the  un- 
written rules  and  restrictions  that  regulated  its  action. 
There  was  no  definite  written  constitution  that  could 
be  appealed  to,  but  in  no  other  form  of  government 
did  tacit  understandings,    traditional  observances,  il- 


8  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

logical  but  serviceable  compromises,  bear  so  great  a 
part. 

It  was  claimed  for  this  form  of  government  that, 
with  all  its  defects  and  anomalies,  it  had  unquestion- 
ably worked  well.  I  may  again  quote  the  words  of 
Paley.  '  Before  we  seek  to  obtain  anything  more,'  he 
writes,  'consider  duly  what  we  already  have,  "We 
have  a  House  of  Commons  composed  of  548  mem- 
bers, in  which  number  are  found  the  most  consider- 
able landholders  and  merchants  of  the  Kingdom ;  the 
heads  of  the  army,  the  navy,  and  the  law ;  the  occu- 
piers of  great  offices  in  the  State  ;  together  with  many 
private  individuals  eminent  by  their  knowledge,  elo- 
quence, and  activity.  If  the  Country  be  not  safe  in 
such  hands,  in  whom  may  it  confide  its  interests  ?  If 
such  a  number  of  such  men  be  liable  to  the  influence 
of  corrupt  motives,  what  assembly  of  men  will  be  se- 
cure from  the  same  danger  ?  Does  any  new  scheme  of 
representation  promise  to  collect  together  more  wis- 
dom or  to  produce  firmer  integrity  ? '  ^ 

The  English  Constitution  of  the  eighteenth  century 
might  also  be  tested  in  other  ways.  It  is  incontestable 
that  under  it  England  had  enjoyed  for  a  long  space  of 
time  much  prosperity,  a  far  larger  measure  of  steady 
freedom,  and  a  far  more  equitable  system  of  taxation 
than  any  of  the  great  States  of  the  Continent.  tTnder 
this  form  of  government  she  passed  successfully  through 
the  dangerous  internal  crisis  of  a  long-disputed  suc- 
cession ;  she  encountered  successfully  foreign  dangers 
of  the  first  magnitude,  from  the  time  of  Louis  XIV. 
to  the  time  of  Napoleon  ;  and  although  her  history 
was  by  no  means  unchequered  by  faults  and  disasters, 
it  was  under  this  system  of  government  that  she  built 


•  Moral  Philosophy^  ij.  220,  221. 


CH.  I.  THE  AMERICAN  CONSTITUTION  9 

up  her  vast  Indian  Empire  and  largely  extended  and 
organised  her  colonial  dominions. 

The  other  great  type  of  free  government  existing  in 
the  world  was  the  American  Republic^  and  it  is  curious 
to  observe  how  closely  the  aims  and  standards  of  the 
men  who  framed  the  memorable  Constitution  of  1787 
and  1788  corresponded  with  those  of  the  English 
statesmen  of  the  eighteenth  century.  It  is  true  that 
the  framework  adopted  was  very  different.  In  the 
true  spirit  of  Burke,  the  American  statesmen  clearly 
saw  how  useless  it  would  be  to  reproduce  all  English 
institutions  in  a  country  where  they  had  no  historical 
or  traditional  basis.  The  United  States  did  not  con- 
tain the  materials  for  founding  a  constitutional  mon- 
archy or  a  powerful  aristocracy,  and  a  great  part  of 
the  traditional  habits  and  observances  that  restrained 
and  regulated  English  parliamentary  government  could 
not  possibly  operate  in  a  new  country  with  the  same 
force.  It  was  necessary  to  adopt  other  means,  but  the 
ends  that  were  aimed  at  were  much  the  same.  To  di- 
vide and  restrict  power  ;  to  secure  property ;  to  check 
the  appetite  for  organic  change;  to  guard  individual 
liberty  against  the  tyranny  of  the  multitude,  as  well  as 
against  the  tyranny  of  an  individual  or  a  class  ;  to  in- 
fuse into  American  political  life  a  spirit  of  continuity 
and  of  sober  and  moderate  freedom,  were  the  ends 
which  the  great  American  statesmen  set  before  them, 
and  which  they  in  a  large  measure  attained.  They 
gave  an  elected  president  during  his  short  period  of 
office  an  amount  of  power  which  was,  on  tlie  whole, 
not  less  than  that  of  George  III.  They  invested  their 
Senate  with  powers  considerably  beyond  those  of  the 
House  of  Lords.  They  restricted  by  a  clearly  defined 
and  written  Constitution  the  powers  of  the  rejiresenta- 
tive  body,  placing,  among  other  things,  the  security  of 


10  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

property,  the  sanctity  of  contract,  and  the  chief  forms 
of  personal  and  religious  liberty  beyond  the  powers  of 
a  mere  parliamentary  majority  to  infringe.  They  es- 
tablished a  Supreme  Court  with  the  right  of  inter- 
preting authoritatively  the  Constitution  and  declaring 
Acts  of  Congress  which  exceeded  their  powers  to  be 
null  and  void  ;  they  checked,  or  endeavoured  to  check, 
the  violent  oscillations  of  popular  suffrage  by  intro- 
ducing largely  into  the  Constitution  the  principle  of 
double  election  ;  and  they  made  such  large  majorities 
necessary  for  the  enactment  of  any  organic  change 
that  these  changes  became  impossible,  except  where 
there  was  an  overwhelming  consensus  of  public  opin- 
ion in  their  favour. 

In  dealing  with  the  suffrage  they  acted  in  the  same 
spirit.  Judge  Story  has  expatiated  on  this  subject 
in  a  book  which  is,  in  my  opinion,  one  of  the  most 
valuable  ever  written  on  the  science  of  politics.  He 
argues  that '  the  right  of  voting,  like  many  other  rights, 
is  one  which,  whether  it  has  a  fixed  foundation  in  nat- 
ural law  or  not,  has  always  been  treated  in  the  practice 
of  nations  as  a  strictly  civil  right,  derived  from  and 
regulated  by  each  society  according  to  its  own  circum- 
stances and  interests/  On  the  ground  of  natural  right 
it  would  be  impossible  to  exclude  females  from  voting, 
or  to  justify  the  arbitrary  and  varying  enactments  by 
which  different  countries  have  defined  the  age  at  which 
males  attain  their  majorities.  '  If  any  society  is  entrusted 
with  authority  to  settle  the  matter  of  the  age  or  sex  of 
voters,  according  to  its  own  vicAVS  of  its  policy,  or  con- 
venience, or  justice,  who  shall  say  that  it  has  not  equai 
authority,  for  like  reasons,  to  settle  any  other  matters 
regarding  the  rights,  qualifications,  and  duties  of 
voters  ? '  The  truth  is  that  '  there  can  be  no  certain 
rule '  on  these  subjects  '  for  all  ages  and  for  all  na- 


CH.  1.  THE  AMERICAN  SUFFRAGE  ll 

tions/  The  right  of  suffrage  will  vary  almost  infinite- 
ly, according  to  the  special  circumstances  and  charac- 
teristics of  a  nation.^ 

The  American  Legislature  acted  on  this  principle. 
In  the  colonial  period  '  no  uniform  rules  in  regard  to 
the  right  of  suffrage  existed.  In  some  of  the  Colonies 
.  .  .  freeholders  alone  were  voters  ;  in  others,  a  very 
near  approach  was  made  to  universal  suffrage  among 
the  males  of  competent  age  ;  and  in  others,  again,  a 
middle  principle  was  adopted,  which  made  taxation 
and  voting  dependent  upon  each  other,  or  annexed  to 
it  the  qualification  of  holding  some  personal  estate,  or 
the  privilege  of  being  a  freeman  or  the  eldest  son  of  a 
freeholder  of  the  town  or  corporation.'  When  the 
Revolution  separated  the  Colonies  from  the  mother 
country  the  same  diversity  was  suffered  to  continue. 
*  In  some  of  the  States  the  right  of  suffrage  depends 
upon  a  certain  length  of  residence  and  payment  of 
taxes  ;  in  others,  upon  mere  citizenship  and  residence  ; 
in  others,  upon  the  possession  of  a  freehold  or  some 
estate  of  a  particular  value,  or  upon  the  payment  of 
taxes,  or  performance  of  some  public  duty,  such  as 
service  in  the  militia  or  on  the  highways.  In  no  two 
of  these  State  constitutions  will  it  be  found  that  the 
qualifications  of  the  voters  are  settled  upon  the  same 
uniform  basis.'  A  proposal  to  establish  a  uniform 
system  of  voting  on  a  common  principle  was  brought 
before  the  Convention  which  framed  the  Constitution 
of  1787-88,  but  after  full  discussion  it  was  resolved  to 
leave  the  existing  diversities  untouched,  and  to  con- 
fide to  each  State  the  power  of  regulating  as  it  pleased 
the  system  of    suffrage.      All  that  the    Convention 


'  Story,  Commentaries  on  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States^ 
ii.  55-58. 


12  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  i. 

established  was,  that  the  electors  for  the  House  of 
Eepresentatives  should,  in  each  State,  have  the  qualifi- 
cations requisite  for  the  electors  of  the  most  numer- 
ous branch  of  the  State  Legislature.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  for  many  years  property  qualifications  were  re- 
quired in  most  States  for  electors,  and  a  diversity  in 
the  system  of  election  prevailed  which  was  little,  if  at 
all,  less  than  in  England.  In  several  of  the  State  leg- 
islatures, though  not  in  the  Federal  Legislature,  a 
property  qualification  was  required  in  representatives 
and  in  the  Federal  Legislature  representatives,  and 
direct  taxes  were  apportioned  by  the  same  ratio.  ^ 

If  we  now  pass  from  the  two  great  English-speaking 
communities  to  France,  we  find  ourselves  in  a  different 
region  of  thought,  over  which  Rousseau  exercised  the 
strongest  influence.  It  is  not  necessary  for  me  here  to 
enter  into  a  general  examination  of  the  political  theo- 
ries of  Rousseau,  or  of  the  many  inconsistencies  they 
present.  The  part  of  his  teaching  which  had  most  in- 
fluence, and  with  which  we  are  now  specially  concerned, 
is  that  relating  to  the  suffrage.  He  held  that  absolute 
political  equality  was  the  essential  condition  of  political 
freedom,  and  that  no  diversities  of  power,  or  represen- 
tations of  classes  or  interests  should  be  suffered  to  ex- 
ist in  the  Constitution.  Every  man  should  have  a  vote, 
and  a  vote  of  the  same  value  ;  a  representative  should 
be  nothing  more  than  a  delegate  under  the  absolute 
control  of  the  constituency  ;  and  no  law  can  have  any 
binding  force  which  has  not  been  directly  sanctioned 
by  the  whole  community.  His  whole  system  rested  on 
the  idea  of  natural  and  inalienable  rights. 

These  views  did  not  at  once  pass  into  French  legis- 
lation.    The   States-General  which  met  in  1789  had 


'  Story,  ii.  59-66,  95,  96,  106. 


CH.  I.  PBENCH  CONSTITUTIONS  13 

been  elected  by  orders,  the  nobles  and  the  ecclesiastics 
voting  separately  and  directly  for  their  own  represent- 
atives. For  the  third  estate  the  system  of  double  elec- 
tion was  adopted,  the  electors  being  themselves  elected 
by  a  very  wide  constituency,  consisting  of  men  of 
twenty-five  who  had  a  settled  abode  and  who  paid  di- 
rect taxes.  In  the  Constitution  of  1791  the  system  of 
double  election  was  maintained  ;  the  right  of  voting 
for  the  primary  assemblies  was  restricted  to  '  active 
citizens '  who,  among  other  things,  paid  direct  contri- 
butions to  at  least  the  value  of  three  days'  labour  ; 
while,  the  men  whom  they  elected,  and  Avho  in  their 
turn  elected  the  representatives,  were  required  to 
possess  a  considerable  property  qualification.  It  varied, 
according  to  the  size  of  the  constituencies  and  the 
nature  of  the  property,  from  a  revenue  of  the  value  of 
500  days'  to  a  revenue  of  the  value  of  100  days'  labour. 
In  1793,  however,  the  Legislative  Assembly  very  nearly 
established  manhood  suffrage,  though  it  was  qualified 
by  the  system  of  double  election.  The  connection  of 
voting  with  property  and  taxation  was  abolished.  All 
Frenchmen  of  twenty-one  who  had  resided  for  a  year 
in  the  department,  and  who  were  not  in  domestic  ser- 
vice, might  vote  in  the  primary  assemblies,  and  no 
other  qualification  was  required,  either  for  the  elected 
electors  or  for  the  deputies,  except  that  they  should 
have  attained  the  age  of  twenty-five.  It  was  under 
this  system  that  the  Convention — the  most  bloody  and 
tyrannical  assembly  of  which  history  has  any  record — 
was  elected.  The  Constitution  of  June  1793  com- 
pleted the  work  of  democratic  equality.  The  Con- 
vention decreed  that '  all  Citizens  have  an  equal  right  to 
concur  in  the  enactment  of  the  law  and  in  the  nomina- 
tions of  their  delegates  or  agents ' ;  that  '  the  Sover- 
eign people  is  the  universality  of  French  citizens,'  and 


14  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

that  'they  should  nominate  directly  their  deputies/ 
Population  was  made  the  sole  basis  of  national  repre- 
sentation. All  citizens  of  twenty-one  years  who  had 
resided  for  six  months  in  the  electoral  district  were 
made  voters,  and  every  40,000  voters  were  entitled  to 
return  one  member.  This  Constitution  itself  was  sub- 
mitted to  and  ratified  by  direct  universal  suffrage. 

The  year  when  this  Constitution  Avas  enacted  was 
one  of  the  most  tragical  in  French  history.  It  was  the 
year  when  the  ancient  monarchy  was  overthrown  ; 
when  the  King  and  Queen  were  brought  to  the  scaffold  ; 
when  the  flower  of  the  French  nation  were  mown 
down  by  the  guillotine  or  scattered  as  ruined  exiles 
over  Europe  ;  when  the  war  with  England  began  which 
raged,  with  one  short  intermission,  for  more  than 
twenty  years. 

The  Constitution  of  1793  never  came  into  force.  It 
was  adjourned  till  after  the  war,  and  long  before  the 
war  had  terminated  France  had  passed  into  wholly  dif- 
ferent conditions.  The  downfall  of  the  Jacobins  in 
1794  soon  led  to  a  restriction  of  the  suffrage  and  a  re- 
vival of  the  old  system  of  double  election,  and  in  the 
strong  reaction  against  the  horrors  of  the  Eevolution 
France  moved  on  by  steady  stages  to  the  absolute  des- 
potism of  Napoleon.  The  system  of  direct  election  of 
members  of  Parliament  was  not  established  in  France 
till  1817,  and  universal  suffrage,  as  it  had  been  desig- 
nated by  the  Convention  in  1793,  did  not  revive  until 
1848.  But  the  theory  that  each  change  in  the  Con- 
stitution should  be  ratified  by  a  direct  popular  vote 
showed  more  vitality,  and  successive  Governments  soon 
learned  how  easily  a  plebiscite  vote  could  be  secured 
and  directed  by  a  strong  executive,  and  how  useful  it 
might  become  to  screen  or  to  justify  usurpation.  The 
Constitution  of  1795,  which  founded  the  power  of  the 


CH.  I.  THE  REFORM  BILL  OF  1832  15 

Directors  ;  the  Constitution  of  1799,  which  placed  the 
executive  power  in  the  hands  of  three  Consuls  elected 
for  ten  years  ;  the  Constitution  of  1802,  which  made 
Buonaparte  Consul  for  life,  and  again  remodelled  the 
electoral  system ;  the  Empire,  which  was  established 
in  1804,  and  the  additional  Act  of  the  Constitution 
promulgated  by  Napoleon  in  1815,  were  all  submitted 
to  a  direct  popular  vote.^ 

A  great  displacement  of  political  power  was  effected 
by  the  French  Revolution  of  1830  and  by  the  English 
Reform  Bill  of  1833.  Tocqueville,  in  a  recently  pub- 
lished book,  has  shown  very  clearly  how  the  true  sig- 
nificance of  the  French  Revolution  of  1830  was  the 
complete  ascendency  of  the  middle,  or,  as  the  French 
say,  bourgeois  class.  In  that  class  all  political  powers, 
franchises,  and  prerogatives  for  the  next  eighteen  years 
were  concentrated  ;  their  good  and  evil  qualities  per- 
vaded and  governed  the  whole  field  of  French  politics  ; 
and,  by  a  happy  coincidence,  the  King  in  mind  and 
character  was  in  perfect  harmony  with  the  representa- 
tives of  the  people.^  Constitutional  government  was 
carried  out  during  these  years  faithfully,  and  in  some 
respects  even  brilliantly,  but  it  was  tainted  by  much 
corruption,  and  it  rested  on  an  electorate  of  much  less 
than  a  quarter  of  a  million. 

In  England,  a  similar  though  not  quite  so  decisive 
influence  was  established  by  the  Reform  Bill  of  1832. 
Many  causes  contributed  to  this  measure,  but  two  pre- 
dominated over  all  others,  one  of  them  being  industrial 
and  geographical,  and  the  other  jjolitical.  The  great 
manufacturing  inventions  of  the  eighteenth  century 


'  See    Jules    Clere,    Histoire      de  la  France  depuis  1789. 
du  Suffrage    Universel,    12-30,  •  Souvenirs    de    Tocqueville^ 

S3  ;    Laferriere,    Coyistitutions      pp.  5-7. 


16  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

had  called  into  being  vast  masses  of  unrepresented 
opinion  in  the  provincial  towns,  transferred  the  weight 
of  population  from  the  southern  to  the  northern  half 
of  the  island^  and,  partly  by  depleting  old  centres  of 
power,  and  partly  by  creating  new  ones,  added  enor- 
mously to  the  inequalities  and. anomalies  of  English 
representation.  On  the  other  hand,  the  great  wave  of 
Toryism  that  overspread  England  after  the  French 
Revolution  produced  a  greatly  increased  disinclination 
among  the  governing  classes  to  all  change,  and  espec- 
ially to  all  measures  of  parliamentary  reform.  The 
Royal  prerogative  of  summoning  new  centres  of  popula- 
tion to  send  members  to  Westminster  had  long  since 
become  wholly  obsolete.  Pitt,  with  much  prescience, 
had  attempted  in  1783  and  1785  to  meet  the  growing 
inequalities  of  representation  and  provide  for  a  grad- 
ual diminution  of  the  nomination  boroughs  ;  but  his 
scheme  was  defeated,  and  he  himself  abandoned  the 
policy  of  reform. 

There  can  be  little  doubt  that  for  many  years  after 
the  horrors  of  the  French  Revolution  the  anti-reform 
party  represented  with  perfect  fidelity  the  true  senti- 
ments of  the  English  people,  and  no  kind  of  blame 
should  be  attached  to  the  ministers  who  resisted  par- 
liamentary reform  during  the  continuance  of  the  war. 
After  that  period,  however,  home  politics  were  for 
some  years  unskilfully  conducted,  and  the  reform 
party  grew  steadily  in  strength.  The  reaction  which 
the  French  Reign  of  Terror  had  produced  had  spent  its 
force.  The  many  forms  of  misery  and  discontent  pro- 
duced by  the  sudden  fall  of  prices,  by  the  enormous 
weight  of  the  war  taxation,  by  the  growth  of  the  fac- 
tory system,  and  by  the  vast  and  painful  transforma- 
tion of  industry  it  involved,  had  all  their  influence  on 
political   opinion.      Lord    John   Russell,    dissociating 


CH.  I.  THE  REFORM  BILL  OP  1832  17 

parliamentary  reform  from  radical  schemes  of  universal 
suffrage,  electoral  districts,  and  vote  by  ballot,  repeat- 
edly brought  forward  the  wise  policy  of  disfranchising 
small  boroughs  which  were  found  guilty  of  gross  cor- 
ruption, and  transferring  their  seats  to  the  great  unrep- 
resented towns,  beginning  with  Leeds,  Birmingham, 
and  Manchester.  Such  a  policy,  if  it  had  been  adopted 
in  time,  and  steadily  pursued,  might  have  long  averted 
a  great  and  comprehensive  change  ;  but  it  was  obsti- 
nately resisted.  Many  mistakes,  and  perhaps  still  more 
the  establishment  of  peace,  had  dimmed  the  reputation 
which  the  Tory  party  had  justly  gained  by  their  con- 
duct of  the  war.  On  the  other  hand,  the  no  less  just 
discredit  which  had  fallen  upon  the  Whig  party  on 
account  of  the  profoundly  unpatriotic  conduct  of  a 
large  section  of  its  members  in  the  early  years  of  the 
war  had  passed  away.  Most  of  its  new  leaders  were 
men  who  had  no  part  in  these  errors,  who  were  un- 
tainted by  French  sympathies  and  revolutionary  doc- 
trines, who  reflected  the  national  feelings  quite  as  truly 
as  their  opponents. 

The  triumph  of  Catholic  Emancipation  greatly  ac- 
celerated the  change.  The  Catholic  question  had  been 
for  many  years  that  on  which  public  opinion  was 
mainly  concentrated  ;  and  experience  shows  that  the 
strength  of  public  opinion  which  is  needed  to  carry 
a  great  organic  change  in  England  can  never  be  si- 
multaneously evoked  on  two  totally  different  questions. 
Some  very  acute  judges,  indeed,  who  cared  nothing  for 
Catholic  Emancipation  in  itself,  steadily  resisted  it  be- 
cause they  saw  that,  once  it  was  carried,  the  undivided 
enthusiasm  of  the  country  would  flow  into  the  channel 
of  reform.^ 

'  Lord  Russell  used  to  relate      Lord  Lonsdale  in  private  always 
that  thia  was  the  reason  which      gave  for  his  opposition  to  Catho- 
VOL.  I.  2 


18  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ca.  i. 

After  the  settlement  of  the  Catholic  question  the 
Whig  party,  having  no  longer  the  anti-Popery  preju- 
dice to  contend  with,  acquired  all  the  popularity  its 
democratic  tendencies  would  naturally  give  it,  and  ob- 
tained the  undivided  support  of  the  Protestant  Dis- 
senters. A  great  Whig  cause  had  triumphed,  and  it 
had  triumphed  by  the  Act  of  a  Tory  ministry.  The 
struggle  had  demonstrated  clearly  the  coercive  power 
which  might  be  exercised  over  Parliament  by  organ- 
ised popular  agitation.  The  Tory  party  was  defeated, 
divided,  discredited,  and  discouraged,  and  a  new  class 
of  Irish  reformers  were  introduced  into  Parliament. 
The  cry  for  reform  grew  louder  and  louder,  and  the 
triumph  of  the  cause  in  France  greatly  assisted  it. 

Under  all  these  influences  a  movement  of  public 
opinion  in  favour  of  parliamentary  reform  was  created 
which  had  probably  never  been  equalled  in  England 
for  its  spontaneity  and  force.  The  country  seemed  for 
a  time  on  the  verge  of  revolution ;  but  the  measure 
was  at  last  carried.  To  many  contemporaries  the  de- 
struction of  the  nomination  boroughs  and  of  the  con- 
trolling power  of  the  aristocracy  over  the  House  of 
Commons  seemed  destined  to  ruin  the  parliamentary 
system  of  England.  But  the  men  Avho  chiefly  presided 
over  this  great  change  Avere  genuine  patriots,  pro- 
foundly imbued  with  the  best  political  philosophy  of 
the  English  scliool,  and  as  far  as  possible  from  sympa- 
thy with  the  French  apostles  of  liberty.  It  is  curious 
to  notice  how  deeply  rooted  the  English  sentiment  of 
the  necessity  to  well-ordered  and  enduring  freedom  of 
disparities  of  political  power  has  been,  even   at  the 


lie  Emancipation.     He  said  that      carried,  it  -would  be  impossible 
he  did  not  care  about  tliis  meas-      to  resist  the  cry  for  reform, 
ure,  but  lie  knew  that,  if  it  were 


CH.  t  THE  REFORM  BILL  OP  1832  19 

time  when  parliamentary  government  was  in  its  in- 
fancy. No  one  expressed  this  feeling  better  than 
Shakespeare,  in  the  noble  words  which  he  places  in 

the  mouth  of  Ulysses  : 

Degree  being  vizarded, 
Th'  unworthiest  shows  as  fairly  in  the  mask. 
The  heavens  tliemselves,  tlie  planets,  and  this  centre, 
Observe  degree,  priority,  and  place. 

O !  when  degree  is  shak'd, 
Which  is  the  ladder  to  all  high  designs. 
The  enterprise  is  sick.     How  could  communities, 
Degrees  in  schools,  and  brotherhoods  in  cities, 
Peaceful  commerce  from  dividable  shores, 
The  primogenitive  and  due  of  birth. 
Prerogative  of  age,  crowns,  sceptres,  laurels, 
But  by  degree,  stand  in  authentic  place  ? 
Take  but  degree  away,  untune  that  string. 
And,  hark,  what  discord  follows !  each  thing  meets 
In  mere  oppugnancy :  the  bounded  waters 
Should  lift  their  bosoms  higher  than  the  shores, 
And  make  a  sop  of  all  this  solid  globe : 
Strength  should  be  lord  of  imbecility, 
And  the  rude  son  should  strike  his  father  dead : 
Force  should  be  right ;  or  rather,  right  and  wrong 
(Between  whose  endless  jar  justice  resides) 
Should  lose  their  names,  and  so  should  justice  too. 
Then  everything  includes  itself  in  power, 
Power  into  will,  will  into  appetite ; 
And  appetite,  a  universal  wolf, 
So  doubly  seconded  with  will  and  power, 
Must  make  perforce  a  universal  prey, 
And  last  eat  up  himself. ' 


'  Troilus  and  Cressida,  act  i.  Jar  not  with  liberty,  but  well 

Bcene  3.     So  Milton —  consist.' 

iTj!       i          1     11       X  r  Paradise  Lost,  Book  V.  1.  791^ 

'  If  not  equal  all,  yet  free,  ' 

Equally   free ;    for   orders   and  Milton  puts  these  lines  in  the 

degrees  mouth  of  Satan,  but  in  his  trea- 


20  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  i. 

Though  the  Eeform  Bill  undoubtedly  changed  the 
centre  of  political  power  in  England,  it  left  the  lead- 
ing characteristics  of  the  old  system  undestroyed.  The 
constituencies  were  still  very  different  in  size  and  popu- 
lation. The  suffrage  in  different  parts  of  the  kingdom 
was  very  variously  arranged.  All  the  old  powers  and 
influences  were  retained,  though  their  proportionate 
weight  was  changed.  The  House  of  Lords  still  re- 
mained an  important  element  in  the  Constitution. 
The  landed  interest  was  still  powerful  in  the  county 
constituencies.  Property  was  specially  and  strongly 
represented,  and  the  Reform  Bill  brought  great  masses 
of  hitherto  unrepresented  property,  as  well  as  great 
centres  of  population,  into  the  circle  of  the  Constitu- 
tion. The  middle  class,  which  now  became  the  most 
powerful  in  the  political  system,  was  one  which  could 
be  excellently  trusted  with  a  controlling  power.  Aris- 
totle long  since  observed,  that  it  is  to  this  section  of 
the  community  that  the  chief  power  in  government 
may  be  most  wisely  and  most  profitably  given.  It  is  not 
the  class  most  susceptible  to  new  ideas  or  most  prone 
to  great  enterprises,  but  it  is  distinguished  beyond  all 
others  for  its  political  independence,  its  caution,  its 
solid  practical  intelligence,  its  steady  industry,  its  high 
moral  average.     It  also,  perhaps,  feels  more  promptly 


tise  on  Reformation  in  England  untutored  monarch,  the  noblest, 

he   expresses  very  similar  sen-  worthiest,    and     most    prudent 

timents    in    his     own     person,  men,  with  full  approbation  and 

'  There  is  no  civil  government  suffrage  of  the  people,  have  in 

that  hath  been  known — no,  not  their  power  the   supreme    and 

the     Spartan    nor    the    Roman  final   determination   of   highest 

.     .     .     more  divinely  and  bar-  affairs '   (Book    II.).      On    the 

moniously  tuned,  more  equally  political    opinions    of    English 

balanced    as    it    were    by    the  poets,  see  the  interesting  pref- 

hand  and  scale  of  Justice,  than  ace     to     Sir     Henry     Taylor's 

is  the  Commonwealth  of  Eng-  '  Critical    Essays '    ( Works^    v. 

land,  when,  under  a   firm   and  xi.-xix.). 


CH.  I.  MIDDLE-CLASS  GOVERNMENT  31 

and  more  acutely  than  any  other  class  the  effects  of 
misgovernment,  whether  that  misgovernment  takes  the 
form  of  reckless  adventure  and  extravagant  expendi- 
ture, or  whether,  in  the  not  less  dangerous  form  of  rev- 
olutionary legislation,  it  disturbs  settled  industries, 
drives  capital  to  other  lands,  and  impairs  the  national 
credit,  on  which  the  whole  commercial  system  must 
ultimately  rest. 

In  England,  however,  this  middle  class,  though  it 
became  after  1832  the  most  powerful,  had  not  the  same 
absolute  empire  as  in  France.  The  active  administra- 
tion of  affairs  was  chiefly  in  the  hands  of  the  upper 
and  most  cultivated  class.  The  chief  controlling  power 
lay  with  the  great  middle  classes,  and  followed  mainly 
the  bent  of  their  wishes  and  tendencies.  At  the  same 
time,  the  suffrage  was  so  arranged  that  it  was,  in  some 
degree  at  least,  within  the  reach  of  the  skilled  artisans 
— a  great  and  intelligent  class,  who  should  have  a  dis- 
tinct place  and  interest  in  every  well-ordered  govern- 
ment. 

It  does  not  appear  to  me  that  the  world  has  ever  seen 
a  better  Constitution  than  England  enjoyed  between 
the  Reform  Bill  of  1832  and  the  Reform  Bill  of  1867. 
Very  few  parliamentary  governments  have  included 
more  talent,  or  represented  more  faithfully  the  various 
interests  and  opinions  of  a  great  nation,  or  maintained 
under  many  trying  circumstances  a  higher  level  of 
political  purity  and  patriotism.  The  constituencies  at 
this  time  coincided  very  substantially  with  the  area  of 
public  opinion.  Every  one  who  will  look  facts  hon- 
estly in  the  face  can  convince  himself  that  the  public 
opinion  of  a  nation  is  something  quite  different  from 
the  votes  that  can  be  extracted  from  all  the  individuals 
who  compose  it.  There  are  multitudes  in  every  na- 
tion who  contribute  nothing  to  its  public  opinion ;  who 


22  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  i. 

never  give  a  serious  thought  to  public  affairs,  who  have 
no  spontaneous  wish  to  take  any  part  in  them  ;  who, 
if  they  are  induced  to  do  so,  will  act  under  the  com- 
plete direction  of  individuals  or  organisations  of  an- 
other class.  The  landlord,  the  clergyman  or  Dissent- 
ing minister  or  priest,  the  local  agitator,  or  the 
public-house  keeper,  will  direct  their  votes,  and  in  a 
pure  democracy  the  art  of  winning  and  accumulating 
these  votes  will  become  one  of  the  chief  parts  of  prac- 
tical politics. 

Different  motives  will  be  employed  to  attain  it. 
Sometimes  the  voter  will  be  directly  bribed  or  directly 
intimidated.  He  will  vote  for  money  or  for  drink,  or 
in  order  to  win  the  favour  or  avert  the  displeasure  of 
some  one  who  is  more  powerful  than  himself.  The 
tenant  will  think  of  his  landlord,  the  debtor  of  his 
creditor,  the  shopkeeper  of  his  customer.  A  poor, 
struggling  man  called  on  to  vote  upon  a  question  about 
which  he  cares  nothing,  and  knows  nothing,  is  surely 
not  to  be  greatly  blamed  if  he  is  governed  by  such  con- 
siderations. A  still  larger  number  of  votes  will  be 
won  by  persistent  appeals  to  class  cupidities.  The 
demagogue  will  try  to  persuade  the  voter  that  by  fol- 
lowing a  certain  line  of  policy  every  member  of  his 
class  will  obtain  some  advantage.  He  will  encourage 
all  his  Utopias.,  He  will  hold  out  hopes  that  by  break- 
ing contracts,  or  shifting  taxation  and  the  power  of 
taxing,  or  enlarging  the  paternal  functions  of  govern- 
ment, something  of  the  property  of  one  class  may  be 
transferred  to  another.  He  will  also  appeal  persist- 
ently, and  often  successfully,  to  class  jealousies  and 
antipathies.  All  the  divisions  which  naturally  grow  out 
of  class  lines  and  out  of  the  relations  between  employer 
and  employed  Avill  be  studiously  inflamed.  Envy, 
covetousness,  prejudice,  will  become  great  forces  in 


CH.  I.  THE  UNINSTRUCTED  VOTERS  23 

political  propagandism.  Every  real  grievance  will  be 
aggravated.  Every  redressed  grievance  will  be  revived  ; 
every  imaginary  grievance  will  be  encouraged.  If  the 
poorest,  most  numerous,  and  most  ignorant  class  can 
be  persuaded  to  hate  the  smaller  class,  and  to  vote 
solely  for  the  purpose  of  injuring  them,  the  party  man- 
ager will  have  achieved  his  end.  To  set  the  many 
against  the  few  becomes  the  chief  object  of  the  elec- 
tioneering agent.  As  education  advances  newspapers 
arise  which  are  intended  solely  for  this  purpose,  and 
they  are  often  almost  the  only  reading  of  great  num- 
bers of  voters. 

As  far  as  the  most  ignorant  class  have  opinions  of 
their  own,  they  will  be  of  the  vaguest  and  most  child- 
like nature.  When  personal  ascendencies  are  broken 
down,  party  colours  will  often  survive,  and  they  form 
one  of  the  few  elements  of  real  stability.  A  man  will 
vote  blue  or  vote  yellow  as  his  father  did  before  him, 
without  much  considering  what  principles  may  be  con- 
nected with  these  colours.  A  few  strong  biases  of 
class  or  creed  will  often  display  a  great  vitality.  Large 
numbers,  also,  will  naturally  vote  on  what  is  called 
'the  turn-about  system.'  These  people,  they  will  say, 
have  had  their  turn  ;  it  is  now  the  turn  of  the  others. 
This  ebb  and  flow,  which  is  distinct  from  all  vicissi- 
tudes of  opinion,  and  entirely  irrespective  of  the  good 
or  bad  policy  of  the  Government,  has  become  of  late 
years  a  conspicuous  and  important  element  in  most 
constituencies,  and  contributes  powerfully  to  the  de- 
cision of  elections.  In  times  of  distress  the  flux  or 
reflux  of  the  tide  is  greatly  strengthened.  A  bad  har- 
vest, or  some  other  disaster  over  which  the  Government 
can  have  no  more  influence  than  over  the  march  of  the 
planets,  will  produce  a  discontent  that  will  often  gov- 
ern dubious  votes,  and  may  perhaps  turn  the  scale  in  a 


24  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  i. 

nearly  balanced  election.  In  all  general  elections  a 
large  number  of  seats  are  lost  and  won  by  very  small 
majorities,  and  influences  such  as  I  have  described  may 
decide  the  issue. 

The  men  who  vote  through  such  motives  are  often 
most  useful  members  of  the  community.  They  are 
sober,  honest,  industrious  labourers ;  excellent  fathers 
and  husbands  ;  capable  of  becoming,  if  need  be,  admir- 
able soldiers.  They  are  also  often  men  who,  within 
the  narrow  circle  of  their  own  ideas,  surroundings,  and 
immediate  interests,  exhibit  no  small  shrewdness  of 
judgment ;  but  they  are  as  ignorant  as  children  of  the 
great  questions  of  foreign,  or  Indian,  or  Irish,  or  co- 
lonial policy,  of  the  complicated  and  far-reaching  con- 
sequences of  the  constitutional  changes,  or  the  great 
questions  relating  to  commercial  or  financial  policy,  on 
which  a  general  election  frequently  turns.  If  they  are 
asked  to  vote  on  these  issues,  all  that  can  be  safely  pre- 
dicted is  that  their  decision  will  not  represent  either 
settled  conviction  or  real  knowledge. 

There  is  another  and  very  different  class,  who  are 
chiefly  found  in  the  towns.  They  are  the  kind  of  men 
who  may  be  seen  loitering  listlessly  around  the  doors  of 
every  gin-shop — men  who,  through  drunkenness,  or 
idleness,  or  dishonesty,  have  failed  in  the  race  of  life  ; 
who  either  never  possessed  or  have  wholly  lost  the 
taste  for  honest  continuous  work ;  who  hang  loosely 
on  the  verge  of  the  criminal  classes,  and  from  whom 
the  criminal  classes  are  chiefly  recruited.  These  men 
are  not  real  labourers,  but  their  presence  constitutes 
one  of  the  chief  difficulties  and  dangers  of  all  labour 
questions,  and  in  every  period  of  revolution  and  an- 
archy they  are  galvanised  into  a  sudden  activity.  With 
a  very  low  suffrage  they  become  an  important  element 
in    many    constituencies.     Without    knowledge    and 


CH,  I.  THE  DEMOCRATIC  THEORY  25 

without  character,  their  instinct  will  be  to  use  the 
power  which  is  given  them  for  predatory  and  anarchic 
purposes.  To  break  up  society,  to  obtain  a  new  deal 
in  the  goods  of  life,  will  naturally  be  their  object. 

Men  of  these  two  classes  no  doubt  formed  parts  of 
the  old  constituencies,  but  they  formed  so  small  a  part 
that  they  did  not  seriously  derange  the  constitutional 
machine  or  influence  the  methods  of  candidates.  When 
they  are  very  numerous  they  will  naturally  alter  the 
whole  action  of  politicians,  and  they  may  seriously  im- 
pair the  representative  character  of  Parliament,  by  sub- 
merging or  swamping  the  varieties  of  genuine  opinion 
by  great  uniform  masses  of  ignorant  and  influenced 
voters.  That  symptoms  of  this  kind  have  appeared 
and  increased  in  English  politics  since  the  Eeform  Bill 
of  1867  is,  I  believe,  the  growing  conviction  of  serious 
observers.  The  old  healthy  forces  of  English  life  no 
doubt  still  act,  and  on  great  occasions  they  will  prob- 
ably do  so  with  irresistible  power  ;  but  in  normal  times 
they  act  more  feebly  and  more  uncertainly,  and  are 
more  liable  to  be  overborne  by  capricious  impulses  and 
unreasoning  fluctuations.  The  evil  of  evils  in  our 
present  politics  is  that  the  constituencies  can  no  longer 
be  fully  trusted,  and  that  their  power  is  so  nearly  abso- 
lute that  they  have  an  almost  complete  control  over  the 
well-being  of  the  Empire. 

One  of  the  great  divisions  of  politics  in  our  day  is 
coming  to  be  whether,  at  the  last  resort,  the  world 
should  be  governed  by  its  ignorance  or  by  its  intelli- 
gence. According  to  the  one  party,  the  preponderat- 
ing power  should  be  with  education  and  property. 
According  to  the  other,  the  ultimate  source  of  power, 
the  supreme  right  of  appeal  and  of  control,  belongs 
legitimately  to  the  majority  of  the  nation  told  by  the 
head— or,  in  other  words,  to  the  poorest,  the  most  igno- 


26  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

rant,  the  most  incapable,  who  are  necessarily  the  most 
numerous. 

It  is  a  theory  which  assuredly  reverses  all  the  past 
experiences  of  mankind.  In  every  field  of  human  en- 
terprise, in  all  the  competitions  of  life,  by  the  inexorable 
law  of  Nature,  superiority  lies  with  the  few,  and  not 
with  the  many,  and  success  can  only  be  attained  by 
placing  the  guiding  and  controlling  power  mainly  in 
their  hands.  That  the  interests  of  all  classes  should 
be  represented  in  the  Legislature  ;  that  numbers  as 
well  as  intelligence  should  have  some  voice  in  politics, 
is  very  true  ;  but  unless  the  government  of  mankind 
be  essentially  different  from  every  other  form  of  human 
enterprise,  it  must  inevitably  deteriorate  if  it  is  placed 
under  the  direct  control  of  the  most  unintelligent 
classes.  No  one  can  doubt  that  England  has  of  late 
years  advanced  with  gigantic  strides  in  this  direction. 
Yet,  surely  nothing  in  ancient  alchemy  was  more  irra- 
tional than  the  notion  that  increased  ignorance  in  the 
elective  body  will  be  converted  into  increased  capacity 
for  good  government  in  the  representative  body  ;  that 
the  best  way  to  improve  the  world  and  secure  rational 
progress  is  to  place  government  more  and  more  under 
the  control  of  the  least  enlightened  classes.  The  day 
will  come  when  it  will  appear  one  of  the  strangest  facts 
in  the  history  of  human  folly  that  such  a  theory  was  re- 
garded as  liberal  and  progressive.  In  the  words  of  Sir 
Henry  Maine,  '  Let  any  competently  instructed  person 
turn  over  in  his  mind  the  great  epochs  of  scientific  in- 
vention and  social  change  during  the  last  two  centuries, 
and  consider  what  would  have  occurred  if  universal 
suffrage  had  been  established  at  any  one  of  them.  Uni- 
versal suffrage,  which  to-day  excludes  free  trade  from 
the  United  States,  would  certainly  have  prohibited  the 
spinning-Jenny  and  the  power-loom.      It  would  cer- 


CH.  I.  THE  IRISH  ELECTORATE  27 

tainly  have  forbidden  the  threshing-machine.  It  would 
have  prevented  the  adoption  of  the  Gregorian  Calendar  ; 
and  it  would  have  restored  the  Stuarts.  It  would  have 
proscribed  the  Koman  Catholics,  with  the  mob  which 
burned  Lord  Mansfield's  house  and  library  in  1780  ; 
and  it  would  have  proscribed  the  Dissenters,  with  the 
mob  which  burned  Dr.  Priestley's  house  and  library  in 
1791.'! 

It  is  curious  and  melancholy  to  observe  how  Eous- 
seau's  doctrine  of  the  omnipotence  of  numbers  and  the 
supreme  virtue  of  political  equality  is  displacing  in  Eng- 
land all  the  old  maxims  on  which  English  liberty  once 
rested.  I  have  spoken  of  the  great  inequalities  in  the 
qualifications  for  the  suffrage  that  existed  in  the  United 
Kingdom.  -  They  secured  a  healthy  diversity  of  charac- 
ter in  the  representatives,  and  they  followed  with  rough 
but  general  fidelity  the  different  degrees  of  political  ad- 
vancement. There  was  one  suffrage  for  the  towns,  and 
another  for  the  country — one  suffrage  for  England, 
and  another  for  Ireland.  All  these  diversities  have 
now  been  swept  away.  The  case  of  Ireland  is  especially 
significant.  Ireland  was  greatly  over-represented  in 
the  Imperial  Parliament,  and  by  universal  acknowledg- 
ment the  Irish  representatives  formed  the  diseased  spot 
in  the  parliamentary  body,  the  disaffected  and  obstruc- 
tive element  most  hostile  to  its  healthy  action.  It  was 
also  absolutely  certain  that  a  lowering  of  the  Irish  suf- 
frage would  aggravate  the  evil,  and  introduce  into  Par- 
liament a  larger  body  of  men  who  were  completely 
alienated  from  the  interests  of  the  Empire,  and  utterly 
indifferent  to  the  dignity  of  Parliament  and  the  main- 
tenance of  the  Constitution.  No  one  who  knew  Ire- 
land doubted  that  it  would  throw  a  still  larger  amount 


»  Maine's  Popular  Government.^  pp.  35-36. 


28  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

of  power  into  the  hands  of  a  poor,  ignorant,  and  disaf- 
fected peasantry,  completely  under  the  influence  of 
priests  and  agitators  ;  that  it  would  weaken,  and  in 
many  districts  virtually  disfranchise,  loyalty,  property, 
and  intelligence  ;  that  it  would  deepen  the  division  of 
classes  ;  that  it  would  enormously  increase  the  diffi- 
culty of  establishing  any  form  of  moderate  and  honest 
self-government.  Nothing,  indeed,  is  more  certain 
than  that  the  elements  of  good  government  must  be 
sought  for  in  Ireland  in  a  higher  electoral  plane  than 
in  England.  The  men  who  introduced  and  carried 
the  degradation  of  the  Irish  suffrage  were  perfectly 
aware  of  what  they  were  doing.  They  acted  with  their 
eyes  open  ;  they  justified  themselves,  in  the  true  spirit 
of  the  Contrat  Social,  on  the  plea  that  they  would  not 
allow  a  political  inequality  to  continue,  and  they  prob- 
ably believed  that  they  were  playing  a  good  card  in  the 
party  game. 

A  very  similar  illustration  may  be  found  in  the  lan- 
guage now  commonly  held  in  the  Radical  party  about 
university  representation.  According  to  any  sane 
theory  of  representative  government,  no  form  of  repre- 
sentation can  be  more  manifestly  wise.  I  may  here 
once  more  go  to  Ireland  for  an  illustration.  Nothing 
in  the  Irish  representation  is  so  manifestly  wanting  as 
a  more  adequate  representation  of  loyalty  and  intelli- 
gence in  three  provinces.  Loyal  and  well-educated 
men  are  to  be  found  there  in  abundance  ;  in  nearly 
every  form  of  industry,  enterprise,  and  philanthropy, 
they  take  the  foremost  place  ;  but  they  have  no  corre- 
sponding weight  in  the  political  representation,  as  they 
are  usually  swamped  by  an  ignorant  and  influenced 
peasantry.  Owing  to  the  purely  agricultural  character 
of  the  greater  part  of  Ireland,  and  the  steady  decadence 
of  most  of  its  county  towns,  the  Irish  boroughs  are 


CH.  I.  ATTACKS  ON  EDUCATION  29 

for  the  most  part  singularly  small  and  insignificant. 
Among  these  boroughs  a  leading  place  must  be  assigned 
to  the  one  university  constituency.  This  great  Univer- 
sity has  for  many  generations  educated  the  flower  of 
the  intelligence  of  Ireland.  It  has  sent  into  the  Im- 
perial Parliament  a  greater  number  of  representatives 
of  conspicuous  ability  than  any  other  Irish  constitu- 
ency. It  comprises  more  than  4,300  electors,  and  is, 
therefore,  even  in  point  of  numbers,  much  more  con- 
siderable than  many  Irish  boroughs ;  and  its  voters 
consist  of  highly  educated  men,  scattered  over  the 
whole  surface  of  the  country,  taking  a  leading  part  in 
many  professions  and  industries,  and  coming  in  close 
contact  with  an  altogether  unusual  variety  of  interests, 
classes,  and  opinions.  If  the  object  of  representation 
be  to  reflect  faithfully  in  its  variety  and  due  proportion 
the  opinions,  the  interests,  and  the  intelligence  of  the 
community,  what  constituency  could  be  more  essen- 
tially and  more  usefully  representative  ?  Yet  we  are 
now  told  that,  in  computing  the  relative  strength  of 
parties  in  Ireland,  the  University  representation  must 
be  subtracted,  as  '  it  does  not  represent  the  nation.' 
This  dignity,  it  appears,  belongs  more  truly  to  the  illit- 
erates— more  than  one  in  five  professedly  unable  even 
to  read  the  names  upon  the  ballot-papers ' — who,  in 
some  remote  western  district,  or  in  some  decaying 
county  town,  are  driven  like  sheep  to  the  polling-booth 
by  agitators  or  priests  ! 

Surely  it  is  impossible  to  exaggerate  the  fatuity  of 
these  attacks  upon  university  representation  ;  and  the 
men  who  make  them  have  rarely  the  excuse  of  honest 
ignorance.     With  many  the  true  motive  is  simply  a 


*  Return  shoioing  the  Number  of  Persons  who  voted  as  Illiterates 
at  the  General  Election  of  1892  (Feb.  1893). 


30  DEMOCRACY  AND  MBERTY  CH.  i. 

desire  to  extinguish  constituencies  which  return  mem- 
bers opj)osed  to  their  politics,  and  at  the  same  time,  by 
depreciating  the  great  centres  of  intelligence,  to  flatter 
the  more  ignorant  voters.  It  is  a  truth  which  should 
never  be  forgotten,  that  in  the  field  of  politics  the 
spirit  of  servility  and  sycophancy  no  longer  shows 
itself  in  the  adulation  of  kings  and  nobles.  Faithful 
to  its  old  instinct  of  grovelling  at  the  feet  of  power,  it 
now  carries  its  homage  to  another  shrine.  The  men 
who,  in  former  ages,  would  have  sought  by  Byzantine 
flattery  to  win  power  through  the  favour  of  an  emperor 
or  a  prince,  will  now  be  found  declaiming  on  platforms 
about  the  iniquity  of  privilege,  extolling  the  matchless 
wisdom  and  nobility  of  the  masses,  systematically  try- 
ing to  excite  their  passions  or  their  jealousies,  and  to 
win  them  by  bribes  and  flatteries  to  their  side.  Many 
of  those  who  are  doing  their  best  to  reduce  the  influence 
of  education  and  intelligence  in  English  politics  are 
highly  cultivated  men,  who  owe  to  university  educa- 
tion all  that  they  are,  though  they  are  now  imitating 
— usually  with  awkward  and  overstrained  effort — the 
rant  of  the  vulgar  demagogue.  They  have  taken  their 
line  in  public  life,  and  some  of  them  have  attained 
their  ends.  I  do  not  think  that  the  respect  of  honest 
men  will  form  any  large  part  of  their  reward. 

It  is  curious  how  often  in  modern  England  extreme 
enthusiasm  for  education  is  combined  with  an  utter 
disregard  for  the  opinions  of  the  more  educated  classes. 
The  movement  against  the  influence  of  property  is  at 
least  as  strong  as  against  the  influence  of  education. 
One  of  the  forms  that  it  now  chiefly  takes  is  the  out- 
cry against  plural  voting.  -It  is  denounced  as  an  abuse 
and  an  injustice  that  some  great  landlord  who  has 
property  in  several  counties,  or  in  several  towns,  should 
possess  a  vote  for  each  constituency  in  which  he  pos- 


OH.  I.  ATTACKS  ON  PROPERTY  31 

sesses  property.  To  me,  at -least,  it  appears  that  such 
an  arrangement  is  most  natural,  expedient,  and  just. 
In  each  of  these  localities  the  voter  has  considerable 
material  interests  ;  in  each  of  them  he  pays  taxes  ;  in 
each  of  them  he  discharges  public  duties  ;  in  each  of 
them  he  probably  exercises  local  influence  as  a  land- 
lord or  an  employer  of  labour.  He  takes  part  in  each 
constituency  in  local  charities,  in  local  movements,  in 
local  business,  and  represents  in  each  a  clearly  recog- 
nised, and  often  very  considerable,  force.  Can  there 
be  anything  more  reasonable  than  that  he  should  have 
in  each  constituency  a  voice  in  the  political  represen- 
tation ?  Can  there  be  anything  more  irrational  than 
to  maintain  that,  in  all  these  constituencies  except  one, 
he  should  be  denied  that  minute  fraction  of  political 
power  which  is  accorded  to  the  poorest  day-labourer  in 
his  employment  ?  Mill  and  some  other  advocates  of 
universal  suffrage  have  maintained  that  while  every 
one  should  have  a  vote,  plural  voting  should  be 
largely  extended,  giving  special  privileges  to  special 
qualifications.  It  would  be  difficult  to  enact,  and  prob- 
ably still  more  difficult  to  maintain,  such  privileges 
under  a  democratic  ascendency  ;  but  plural  voting  con- 
nected with  property  is  rooted  by  long-established  cus- 
tom in  the  habits  of  the  country,  and  though  its  influ- 
ence is  not  very  great,  it  does  something  to  make  the 
Legislature  a  true  picture  and  reflection  of  the  forces  in 
the  country,  and  to  qualify  the  despotism  of  simple 
numbers. 

We  may  take  another  illustration  of  a  different  kind. 
Let  the  reader  place  himself  in  imagination  at  the 
Guildhall  or  at  St.  Paul's,  and  consider  for  a  moment 
all  that  is  included  within  a  square  mile  taken  from 
these  centres.  Probably  no  other  spot  on  the  globe 
comprises  so  many  of  the  forms  and  elements  of  power. 


32  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

Think  of  all  the  wealth,  ail  the  varieties  of  knowledge, 
all  the  kinds  of  influence  and  activity  that  are  concen- 
trated in  that  narrow  space.  In  the  most  distant  quar- 
ters of  the  Empire  men  of  enterprise  and  initiative 
turn  to  the  city  of  London  for  assistance  ;  each  fluctu- 
ation of  its  prosperity  is  felt  to  the  furthest  confines  of 
the  civilised  world.  There  is  scarcely  a  Government 
that  does  not  owe  something  to  it,  and  its  agencies 
radiate  far  beyond  civilisation,  among  savage  tribes 
and  through  unreclaimed  deserts.  It  is  the  great  heart 
of  the  Empire,  beating  in  close,  constant,  active  cor- 
respondence with  all  its  parts.  And  yet,  according  to 
the  democratic  theory,  a  square  mile  of  the  City 
should  have  exactly  the  same  weight  in  the  political 
system  as  a  square  mile  of  Stepney  or  of  Shadwell. 
Can  any  one  suppose  that  a  theory  of  representation 
so  palpably  and  grotesquely  at  variance  with  the  real- 
ity of  things  has  any  real  prospect  of  enduring  ? 

The  complete  submission  of  all  taxation  to  the  will 
of  a  mere  numerical  majority  is  an  end  which  we  have 
not  yet  fully  attained,  but  towards  which  we  are  mani- 
festly travelling.  Every  few  years  something  is  done  in 
this  direction,  either  by  lowering  the  suffrage,  or  by 
abolishing  ex-officio  guardians  of  the  poor,  or  by  ex- 
tinguishing plural  voting,  or  by  suppressing  or  weak- 
ening property  qualifications.  The  inevitable  result 
is  to  give  one  class  the  power  of  voting  taxes  which 
another  class  almost  exclusively  pay,  and  the  chief 
tax-payers,  being  completely  swamped,  are  for  all  prac- 
tical purposes  completely  disfranchised.  As  I  have  al- 
ready noticed,  it  would  be  difficult  to  conceive  a  more 
fiagrant  abandonment  of  that  principle  about  the  con- 
nection between  taxation  and  voting  which  in  former 
generations  was  looked  on  as  the  most  fundamental 
principle  of   British  freedom.     It  is  curious  to  find 


CH.  L  EFFECTS  OF  UNIVERSAL  SUFFRAGE  33 

men  who  are  steadily  labouring  for  this  end  declaim- 
ing on  the  iniquity  of  the  aristocracy  of  the  eighteenth 
century  in  attempting  to  tax  America  without  her  con- 
sent. Democracy  pushed  to  its  full  consequences  places 
the  whole  property  of  the  country  in  the  hands  of  the 
poorest  classes,  giving  them  unlimited  power  of  help- 
ing themselves.  At  the  same  time,  under  its  influence 
the  effect  of  distant  considerations  on  political  action 
is  steadily  diminishing.  Very  naturally,  every  re- 
straint of  economy  under  such  a  system  is  weakened, 
and  the  sphere  of  Government  activity  and  expense  is 
rapidly  increased.  But  evils  much  graver  than  mere 
extravagance  and  inequitable  taxation  are  impending 
in  a  country  which  has  no  very  extraordinary  natural 
resources,  and  which  owes  its  almost  unique  economi- 
cal position  mainly  to  its  great  accumulation  of  mova- 
ble wealth,  and  to  the  national  credit  which  secure 
wealth  alone  can  give. 

It  is  a  saying  of  the  great  German  historian,  Sybel, 
that  *  the  realisation  of  universal  suffrage  in  its  conse- 
quences has  always  been  the  beginning  of  the  end  of 
all  parliamentarism.'  I  believe  that  a  large  majority 
of  the  most  serious  and  dispassionate  observers  of  the 
political  world  are  coming  steadily  to  the  same  conclu- 
sion. Parliamentary  government  which  is  mainly  di- 
rected by  the  educated  and  propertied  classes  is  an 
essentially  different  thing  from  parliamentary  govern- 
ment resting  on  a  purely  democratic  basis.  In  all  the 
instances  in  which  this  form  of  government  has  been 
conspicuously  successful,  the  representative  body  was 
returned  on  a  restricted  suffrage.  This  is  manifestly 
true  of  the  British  Parliaments  of  the  past.  The  Ital- 
ian Parliaments  which  displayed  such  eminent  wisdom 
and  forbearance  after  the  war  of  1859  and  after  the 
death  of  Cavour  ;  the  Austrian  Parliaments  which  car- 


34  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  l 

ried  the  singularly  wise  and  moderate  legislation  that 
has  transformed  Austria  from  a  reactionary  despotism 
into  one  of  the  best-governed  countries  in  Europe  ; 
the  Belgian  Parliaments  which,  in  spite  of  furious  re- 
ligious animosities,  established  among  a  French-speak- 
ing population  constitutional  government  which  en- 
dured without  organic  change  for  sixty  years,  and 
which  their  more  brilliant  neighbours  have  wholly 
failed  to  rival ;  the, Dutch  Parliaments,  which  repre- 
sent a  country  where  self-government  has  long  been 
as  perfectly  attained  as  in  any  portion  of  the  globe — 
were  all  elected  on  a  very  high  suffrage.  All  these  na- 
tions have  during  the  last  years  either  entered  upon 
the  experiment  of  democracy  or  are  now  trembling  on 
the  verge.  The  result  is  already  very  apparent.  In 
Italy,  where  the  experiment  has  been  longest  tried,  it 
has  already  led  to  a  great  and  manifest  deterioration 
in  public  life.  In  Belgium,  its  first  effect  was  to  break 
up  the  Parliament  into  groups,  and  to  shatter  the 
power  of  the  Moderate  Liberals. 

In  several  countries  pure  democracy  has  been  con- 
nected with  extreme  instability  of  government,  with 
rapidly  increasing  taxation  and  debt,  with  broken 
credit,  with  perpetual  military  insurrections,  with  con- 
stantly recurring  alternations  of  anarchy  and  despotism. 
In  Mexico,  it  has  been  computed  that  in  the  thirty- 
two  years  between  1821  and  1853  no  less  than  forty- 
eight  different  forms  of  government  succeeded  each 
other. ^  In  Spain,  democracy  in  its  most  exaggerated 
form  has  been  repeatedly  adopted.  There  was  an  ex- 
tremely democratic  constitution  established  in  1812, 
overthrown  in  1814,  re-established  in  1820,  again  de- 
stroyed in  1823.     After  a  long  succession  of  insurrec- 


■  See  Burke's  Life  of  Juarez,  p.  3. 


cm  I.     EFFECTS  OF  UNIVERSAL  SUFPKAGB      35 

tions  and  constitutional  vicissitudes,  which  it  is  un- 
necessary to  recount,  universal  suffrage  was  established 
by  the  Kepublican  revolution  of  1868.  It  prevailed, 
in  spite  of  several  revolutions  of  power,  till  1877,  and 
during  this  time  the  credit  of  the  country  was  irre- 
trievably ruined  by  the  immense  increase  of  the  debt. 
In  1877  a  high  property  electoral  qualification  was  es- 
tablished. In  1887  it  was  somewhat  modified.  In 
1890  universal  suffrage,  chiefly  qualified  by  a  two  years' 
residence,  was  re-established.'  In  many  cases  where 
universal  suffrage  exists  it  has  been  rendered  nugatory 
by  the  success  with  which  the  governing  power  has 
been  able  to  manage  and  to  drill  it.  There  are  said  to 
have  been  instances  where  a  regiment  of  soldiers  has 
been  marched  to  the  poll  for  the  purpose  of  securing 
the  majority  for  the  Government  candidate.  The  sys- 
tem has  probably  been  least  dangerous  in  countries 
like  Germany  and  the  United  States,  where  the  powers 
of  the  representative  body  are  greatly  limited,  or  in 
new  and  distant  countries,  inhabited  by  thinly  scat- 
tered, prosperous,  and  self-reliant  colonists,  and  where 
there  are  no  old  institutions  to  be  destroyed.  Yet, 
even  in  these  cases  the  abuses  and  dangers  that  flow 
from  it  are  very  apparent. 

France,  which  more  than  any  other  country  claims 
the  paternity  of  this  form  of  government,  deserves  our 
special  attention.  In  one  important  respect  she  seemed 
peculiarly  fitted  for  it,  for  the  great  division  of  landed- 
property  secured  a  strong  conservative  basis,  and  erected 
the  most  formidable  of  all  barriers  against  socialistic  in- 
novations. She  was  also,  on  account  of  her  almost 
stationary  population,  much  less  exposed  than  othei 
European  nations  to  that  pressure  of  population  on 


•Dareste,  Constitutions  3fodernes,  i.  617,  619,  626. 


36  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  i, 

means  of  subsistence  which  is  one  of  the  chief  causes 
of  political  disturbances.  At  the  Eevolution  of  1848 
she  passed  at  a  single  bound  from  an  electorate  of  about 
225,000  ^  voters  to  universal  manhood  suffrage.  For  a 
few  months  the  new  electors  turned  with  an  overwhelm- 
ing enthusiasm  to  Lamartine.  At  a  time  when  France 
was  peculiarly  rich  in  great  men  he  was  pre-eminently 
the  wonderful  man  of  his  age,  possessing  nearly  all  the 
qualities  that  are  most  fitted  to  dazzle  great  masses  of 
men,  though,  unfortunately,  not  those  which  are  most 
needed  for  the  wise  guidance  of  affairs.  As  a  poet,  he 
was  by  universal  consent  among  the  very  greatest 
France  had  ever  produced,  and  few  men  in  all  French 
literature  have  wielded  the  noble  instrument^f  French 
prose  with  such  consummate  genius  and  skill.  His 
*  History  of  the  Girondins,'  untrue,  inaccurate,  and 
misleading  as  it  is,  had,  probably,  a  greater  influence 
on  immediate  politics  than  any  other  historical  work 
that  has  ever  been  written,  and  the  passionate  enthusi- 
asm it  aroused  contributed  very  largely  to  the  Eevolu- 
tion. He  combined,  too,  as  no  one  has  done  before  or 
since,  the  most  splendid  literary  gifts  in  poetry  and 
prose  with  the  power  of  enthralling  assemblies  by  his 
spoken  words,  swaying  and  restraining  the  passions  of 
vast  multitudes  of  excited  men.  In  a  great  crisis  he 
proved  brave,  honest,  humane,  and  well-meaning,  and 
he  could  judge  large  social  questions  with  wisdom  and 
moderation  ;  but  he  had  neither  the  true  strength  nor 
practical  talent  that  are  needed  in  the  government 
of  men,  and  he  was  apt  to  be  led  astray  by  a  childlike 
and  unrestrained  vanity. 

His  popularity  was  for  a  time  so  great  that  ten  de- 
partments and  more  than  two  millions  of  voters  simul- 


Clere,  Hist,  du  Suffrage  Universel,  p.  69. 


CH.  1.     UNIVERSAL  SUFFRAGE  IN  FRANCE       37 

taneonsly  elected  him  to  the  National  Assembly,  with- 
out  any  solicitation  on  his  part.  But  his  star  soon 
faded  :  socialistic  attacks  on  property  began  to  dominate 
at  Paris,  and  under  the  terror  of  these  attacks  the  great 
mass  of  voters  began  to  turn  towards  a  saviour  of  so- 
ciety. The  election,  by  an  enormous  majority,  of  Louis 
Napoleon  as  President  in  December  1848,  clearly  fore- 
shadowed the  future,  and  the  extremely  menacing  char- 
acter which  the  Paris  (elections  assumed  led  to  the  law 
of  1850,  which  considerably  restricted  the  suffrage.  It 
made  three  years'  residence  in  the  constituency  neces- 
sary for  an  elector,  and  it  provided  precise  and  stringent 
rules  by  which  that  residence  must  be  ascertained.  In 
spite  of  a  furious  opposition  from  the  Radical  party, 
this  law  was  carried  by  433  to  240,  and  it  is  said  to 
have  disfranchised  more  than  three  millions  of  voters, 
or  about  a  third  part  of  the  electorate.^ 

Universal  suffrage  had  lasted  just  two  years  ;  but  in 
the  conflict  which  ensued  between  the  Legislative  As-' 
sembly  and  the  President,  the  latter  clearly  saw  that  it 
would  be  his  best  weapon.  By  a  stroke  of  true  politi- 
cal sagacity  he  sent  down,  in  November  1851,  a  power- 
fully written  presidential  message,  calling  upon  the 
Assembly  to  repeal  the  law  of  1850,  and  to  restore  their 
franchise  to  the  three  million  voters.  The  Chamber 
received  the  message  with  some  consternation,  and  after 
an  agitated  debate  it  resolved  by  a  majority  of  two  to 
maintain  the  existing  law.  Less  than  a  month  later 
came  the  Coup  d'Etat  of  December  2,  when  the  chief 
statesmen  and  generals  of  France  were  arrested  in  their 
beds  and  carried  in  the  dark  winter  morning  to  prison  ; 
when  the  Chamber  was  peremptorily  dissolved  ;  when 
its  members,  on  their  refusal  to  obey,  were  led  between 


>  Clere,  pp.  93-96. 


38  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

files  of  soldiers  to  the  barracks,  and  thence  conducted 
to  prison  ;  when  all  resistance  was  crushed  by  military- 
force,  martial  law,  and  wholesale  deportations.  One  of 
the  first  acts  of  Louis  Napoleon  was  to  announce  in  the 
proclamation  that  dissolved  the  Chamber  that  the  elec- 
toral law  of  1850  was  annulled  and  universal  suffrage 
re-established.  Two  days  after  the  Coup  d'Etat  it  was 
sanctioned  by  a  plebiscite  of  the  army,  and  within  three 
weeks  of  the  same  event,  when  the  greater  part  of 
France  was  still  under  severe  martial  law,  the  act  of 
the  President  was  ratified  by  universal  suffrage.  Nearly 
eight  millions  of  electors  are  said  to  have  voted  for 
him. 

From  the  Coup  d'Etat  of  December  2  universal  suf- 
frage was  duly  installed  in  France.  Another  plebiscite, 
which  took  place  in  November  1852,  made  the  Prince- 
President  Emperor  ;  while  a  fourth,  only  a  few  weeks 
before  the  outbreak  of  the  disastrous  war  of  1870, 
once  more  sanctioned  by  overwhelming  majorities  the 
imperial  rule.  During  the  whole  of  this  reign  the  Leg- 
islative Assemblies  were  elected  by  universal  suffrage, 
yet  during  the  greater  part  of  it  the  government  was 
an  almost  absolute  despotism.  Universal  suffrage  was 
drilled  and  disciplined  into  the  most  obedient  of  ser- 
vants. Every  official,  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest, 
was  turned  into  an  electioneering  agent.  The  limits 
of  constituencies  were  arbitrarily  enlarged,  modified,  or 
contracted  to  secure  the  success  of  the  Grovernment  can- 
didate. All  the  powers  of  administration  were  system- 
atically and  openly  employed  in  directing  votes.  Each 
constituency  was  taught  that  its  prospect  of  obtaining 
roads,  or  bridges,  or  harbours,  or  other  local  advantages 
depended  on  its  support  of  the  Government,  and  that  if 
the  official  candidate  succeeded  he  would  have  the  pow- 
er of  distributing  among  his  supporters  innumerable 


CH.  I.  THE  LIBERAL  EMPIRE  39 

small  Government  places,  privileges  and  honours.  The 
powers  of  the  Legislative  Assembly  were  extremely  lim- 
ited. They  came  to  little  more  than  a  right  of  sanc- 
tioning laws  submitted  to  it  by  the  Government,  and 
voting  taxes  under  great  restrictions.  Until  1860  its 
debates  were  not  even  fully  reported,  and  for  several 
years  the  Opposition  consisted  of  five  men. 

In  1867  and  1868  the  whole  system  was  suddenly 
changed.  The  Emperor  called  one  of  the  members 
of  the  old  Opposition  to  power,  and  made  a  bold 
attempt,  by  large  and  liberal  measures,  to  transform 
the  character  of  the  Empire.  The  right  of  inter- 
pellation was  conceded  to  the  Chamber.  Liberty  of 
the  press,  in  almost  the  widest  measure,  and  a  large 
measure  of  liberty  of  meeting,  were  accorded,  and  the 
fierce  political  life  which  had  been  for  some  seventeen 
years  suppressed  burst  out  with  a  volcanic  fury.  Those 
who  knew  France  in  the  last  days  of  the  Empire  will, 
I  think,  agree  with  me  that  there  has  never  been  a 
more  violent,  a  more  dangerous,  or  more  revolutionary 
press  than  then  prevailed.  The  hope  that  active  poli- 
ticians would  let  bygones  be  bygones,  and  accept  the 
compromise  of  a  liberal  empire,  soon  waned.  Furious 
attacks  on  the  main  pillars  of  society  attained  an  enor- 
mous popularity,  and  the  very  foundations  of  the  Em- 
pire were  persistently  assailed.  It  was  at  this  period 
that  the  works  of  M.  Tenot  on  the  Coup  d^Etat  exer- 
cised their  great  influence.  The  demonstrations  at  the 
tomb  of  Baudin,  who  had  been  shot  on  a  barricade  in 
December  1851,  displayed  the  same  spirit ;  and  the  de- 
fiant eloquence  of  Gambetta  in  defending  those  who 
were  accused  of  riot  in  connection  with  these  demon- 
strations first  brought  that  tribune  into  public  notice. 
The  Emperor,  not  unnaturally,  refused  to  abandon  the 
whole  system  of  official  guidance  at  the  election  of  the 


40  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

Chamber  which  met  in  1869,  and  universal  suffrage 
again  returned  a  great  majority  in  his  favour.  But 
the  entire  Parisian  representation  was  won  by  the  Op- 
position, and  a  great  portion  of  it  by  its  most  violent 
and  irreconcilable  wing,  while  in  the  whole  Chamber 
not  much  less  than  a  third  of  the  members  and  a  great 
preponderance  of  the  parliamentary  talent  were  in  op- 
position to  the  Government. 

Most  good  observers  felt  that  a  state  of  things  had 
been  called  into  existence  which  could  not  possibly 
last.  The  Emperor,  in  opening  the  Chamber,  while 
deploring  the  growth  of  subversive  and  anarchical  pas- 
sions, declared  his  determination  to  persevere  in  the 
path  he  had  chosen,  and,  although  he  refused  to  aban- 
don his  action  over  the  constituencies,  and  expressly 
reserved  to  himself  the  right  of  always  appealing  to  his 
people  independently  of  his  ministers,  he  greatly  en- 
larged the  powers  of  the  Assembly.  In  conjunction 
with  himself  it  now  obtained  the  right  of  initiating 
laws  ;  it  obtained  the  fullest  powers  of  amending  them, 
and  the  ministers  became  responsible  to  it.  The  Con- 
stitution was  denounced  by  the  Eadical  party  as  a 
worthless  mockery,  but  it  was  sanctioned  by  the  Ple- 
biscite of  1870.  There  were  about  7,350,000  votes  in 
favour  of  the  Government,  and  rather  more  than 
1,500,000  votes  against  it. 

There  can  be  little  doubt  that  the  subversive  pas- 
sions that  had  been  aroused  and  the  grave  internal  dan- 
gers that  had  arisen  bore  a  great  part  in  impelling  the 
Government  into  the  disastrous  Franco-German  War. 
There  can  be  as  little  doubt  that  the  same  causes  vastly 
aggravated  the  calamity,  for  it  was  the  fear  of  revolu- 
tion that  prevented  the  Emperor  from  falling  back  on 
Paris  after  the  first  defeat.  When  the  news  of  Sedan 
arrived,  and  the  people  of  Paris  learnt  that  the  Em- 


CH.  I.  OVERTHROW   OF  NAPOLEON   UI.  41 

peror  and  his  whole  army  were  prisoners  in  the  hands 
of  the  Prussians,  the  Republican  party  saw  that  their 
hour  had  arrived.  Instead  of  rallying  around  the  Em- 
press, they  at  once,  on  their  own  authority,  destroyed 
the  Government  which  universal  sufErage  had  so  fre- 
quently and  so  recently  ratified,  and  drove  the  Regent 
into  exile.  Few  things  in  French  history  are  more 
mournfully  significant  than  that  the  streets  of  Paris 
were  illuminated  the  night  after  the  disaster  of  Sedan 
was  known.  In  the  eyes  of  the  party  which  now  ruled, 
the  triumph  of  the  Republic  more  than  compensated 
for  the  most  terrible  calamity  that  had  ever  befallen 
their  country.  One  of  the  principal  streets  in  Paris 
still  bears  the  name  of  the  Fourth  of  September,  the 
day  when  this  revolution  was  accomplished.  It  is,  ap- 
parently, still  regarded  by  some  Frenchmen  as  a  day  of 
which  they  may  be  proud. 

It  deprived  France  of  a  settled  Government  at  the 
moment  when  such  a  Government  was  most  imperi- 
ously needed,  and  one  of  its  most  certain  results  was 
the  useless  prolongation  of  a  hopeless  war.  There  is 
little  doubt  that  if  the  Empire  had  survived  Sedan 
peace  would  have  speedily  been  made,  and,  although 
Strasburg  was  irrevocably  lost,  Metz  would  have  been 
saved ;  the  war  indemnity  would  have  been  far  less ; 
the  vast  expenditure  of  life  and  property  and  human 
suffering  that  marked  the  later  months  of  the  war 
would  have  been  prevented,  and  France  might  have  es- 
caped the  most  hideous,  shameful,  and  wicked  of  all 
insurrections — the  Communist  rising  against  a  French 
Government  under  the  eyes  of  a  victorious  invading 
army. 

Happily,  in  this  dark  crisis  of  her  fate  France  found 
a  really  great  man,  who  in  intellectual  stature  seemed 
to  tower  like  a  giant  among  his  contemporaries ;  and  it 


43  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  l 

is  a  curiously  significant  fact  that  he  was  one  of  the 
few  surviving  statesmen  who  had  been  formed  in  the 
parliamentary  conflicts  under  Louis  Philippe,  before 
the  millennium  of  universal  suffrage  had  dawned  upon 
the  land. 

It  is,  perhaps,  somewhat  rash  to  discuss  the  Gov- 
ernment which  ensued,  under  which  France  still  sub- 
sists. In  the  rapidly  changing  kaleidoscope  of  French 
politics  it  may  soon  take  a  new  form,  and  something 
may  easily  occur  which  will  give  it  a  complexion  some- 
what different  from  my  present  Judgment.  Still, 
twenty-three  years  have  elapsed  since  1870  and  the  time 
at  which  I  am  writing,  and  this  space  is  long  enough 
to  furnish  us  with  some  general  conclusions.  The 
French  Eepublic  is,  not  only  in  form,  but  in  reality,  a 
Government  of  universal  suffrage,  acting  with  very  lit- 
tle control.  Its  democratic  character  is  chiefly  qualified 
by  the  position  of  the  Senate,  which  has  some  special 
elements  of  strength,  that  will  be  considered  in  another 
chapter.  The  position  of  the  President  was  for  some 
time  not  very  clearly  determined.  As  interpreted  by 
Thiers  it  carried  with  it  great  governing  powers. 
Thiers  was,  indeed,  essentially  his  own  prime  minister ; 
he  insisted  upon  the  Chamber  carrying  out  his  policy  ; 
he  corresponded  directly  with  foreign  ambassadors  ;  he 
held  the  threads  of  foreign  policy  so  exclusively  in 
his  own  hands  that  the  whole  question  of  the  evacua- 
tion of  the  territory  was  entirely  managed  by  him, 
without  reference  to  his  ministers,  and  it  is  said  that 
no  documents  relating  to  it  were  found  in  the  Ministry 
of  Foreign  Affairs.*  His  ascendency,  however,  was 
mainly  due  to  his  great  personality  and  reputation,  and 
after  his  resignation,  and  especially  after  the  constitu- 


»  Chaudordy,  La  France  en  1889,  p.  191. 


CH.  I.  THE  FRENCH  PRESIDENCY  43 

tional  laws  of  1875,  the  French  President  assumed  a 
position  very  little  different  from  that  of  a  constitu- 
tional monarch.  Unlike  the  American  President,  un- 
like the  French  Emperor,  the  President  does  not  owe 
his  position  to  the  direct  and  independent  action  of 
universal  suffrage.  He  is  elected  by  the  Senate  and 
Chamber  of  Deputies  voting  together.  All  his  acts 
have  to  be  countersigned  by  a  minister.  His  ministers 
fall  before  a  vote  of  the  Assembly,  and  he  cannot  even 
dissolve  the  Chamber  of  Deputies  without  the  assent  of 
the  Senate.  The  Government  is,  therefore,  wholly 
without  that  strong  executive  which  is  one  of  the  most 
distinguishing  characteristics  of  the  great  American  re- 
public. 

Whatever  else  may  be  said  of  this  Government,  it 
has  certainly  not  proved  a  brilliant  one.  Few  French 
Governments  have  produced  or  attracted  so  little  ejni' 
nent  talent,  or  have  been,  for  the  most  part,  carried  on 
by  men  who,  apart  from  their  official  positions,  are  so 
little  known,  have  so  little  weight  in  their  country, 
and  have  hitherto  appealed  so  feebly  to  the  imagina- 
tions of  the  world.  As  it  seems  to  me,  one  of  the 
characteristic  features  of  our  time  is  the  absence  of  any 
political  ideal  capable  of  exciting  strong  enthusiasm. 
Political  restlessness  and  political  innovation  are  abun- 
dantly displayed,  but  there  is  nothing  resembling  the 
fervid  devotion  and  the  boundless  hopes  which  the  ad- 
vent of  democracy  excited  at  the  close  of  the  eighteenth 
century.  Democracy  has  completely  triumphed  in  two 
forms — the  American  and  the  French — and  we  see  it 
fully  working  before  us.  Men' may  like  it  or  dislike 
it,  but  only  rare  and  very  peculiarly  moulded  minds 
can  find  in  the  Government  of  either  republic  a  subject 
for  real  enthusiasm.  The  French  Eevolution,  in  its 
earlier  days,  excited  such  an  enthusiasm  nearly  to  the 


44  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

point  of  madness,  and  in  1830  and  1848  French  poli- 
tics exercised  an  almost  irresistible  attraction  over 
surrounding  countries.  It  has  been  one  of  the  achieve- 
ments of  the  present  Republic  to  destroy  this  fanati- 
cism. With  our  closer  insight  into  American  and 
French  democracy,  forms  of  government  seem  to  have 
lost  their  magnetic  power.  The  ideals  and  utopias 
that  float  before  the  popular  imagination  are  of  another 
kind.  They  point  rather  to  great  social  and  industrial 
changes,  to  redistributions  of  wealth,  to  a  dissolution 
of  the  present  fabric  of  society. 

I  do  not  know  that  this  is  altogether  an  evil.  There 
is  a  constant  tendency  in  the  human  mind  to  expect 
too  much  from  Governments,  and  brilliancy  in  these 
spheres  is  often  sought  by  violent  constitutional  in- 
novations or  military  adventure.  At  the  same  time, 
when  the  Government  of  a  country  fails  to  excite  en- 
thusiasm, or  even  interest,  there  is  apt  to  be  some  de- 
cline of  patriotism,  and  there  is  much  danger  that  the 
craving  for  excitement,  which  is  so  deeply  implanted 
in  human  nature,  and  certainly  abundantly  present  in 
French  nature,  may  some  day  burst  out  in  very  dan- 
gerous forms.  It  has  often  been  said  that  one  of  the 
causes  of  the  popularity  "of  military  adventure  in  great 
despotisms  is  the  absence  of  any  interest  in  ordinary 
public  life.  In  the  light  of  the  present  condition  of 
France,  it  is  exceedingly  curious  to  read  the  speeches 
of  Lamartine,  Cremieux,  and  the  other  men  who 
played  the  chief  part  in  the  Eevolution  of  1848.  The 
charge  which  they  brought  against  the  Government  of 
Louis  Philippe  was  much  less  that  it  was  guilty  of  any 
positive  fault,  than  that  it  failed  to  give  France  the 
brilliancy  and  the  prominence  in  Europe  which  were 
her  due.  She  appeared,  they  contended,  like  a  dowdy, 
ill-dressed  figure  in  the  concert  of  nations.     Yet,  who 


CH.  I.  THE  FRENCH  REPUBLIC  45 

can  doubt  that  at  that  period  the  amount  of  brilliant 
talent  in  French  public  life  was  incomparably  greater 
than  at  present  ? 

The  characteristic  function,  however,  of  government 
is  business,  and  a  Government  that  administers  affairs 
with  steady  wisdom,  tolerance,  and  uprightness  may 
well  be  pardoned  if  it  does  not  appeal  to  the  more 
poetic  side  of  human  nature.  I  suspect,  however,  that 
most  impartial  judges  will  greatly  doubt  whether 
modern  French  democracy  fulfils  these  requirements. 
One  of  its  most  conspicuous  features  has  been  its  ex- 
treme, its  astonishing  ministerial  instability.  Between 
1870  and  the  closing  days  of  1893,  when  I  write  these 
lines,  France  has  had  no  less  than  thirty-two  ministries. 
It  may  well  be  doubted  whether  a  form  of  government 
which  leads  to  such  instability  can  be  destined  to  en- 
dure, and  whether  it  is  compatible  with  that  continuity 
of  policy  which  is  one  of  the  most  essential  elements  of 
national  greatness.  One  of  the  causes  that  make  the 
power  of  Eussia  in  the  world  so  formidable  is  the  steady 
persistence  of  its  foreign  policy.  Designs  that  may  be 
traced  to  Peter  the  Great  have  been  steadily  pursued, 
and  in  the  whole  period  from  1816  to  1895  only  three 
ministers — Nesselrode,  Gortschakoff,  and  Giers — have 
directed  the  foreign  policy  of  the  Empire.  The  great 
lines  of  French  foreign  policy  were  pursued  with  dif- 
ferent degrees  of  energy  and  success,  but  with  unde- 
viating  persistence,  by  Henry  IV.,  by  Kichelieu  and 
Mazarin,  by  Louis  XIV.,  and  by  Cardinal  Fleury.  It 
is  probable  that  in  France,  as  in  most  democracies,  the 
permanent  service  includes  men  greatly  above  the  aver- 
age which  universal  suffrage  has  brought  to  the  front, 
and  it  is  in  this  service  that  the  old  administrative  tra- 
ditions are  preserved  and  the  chief  elements  of  good 
government  are  to  be  found.     A  good  permanent  ser- 


46  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

vice  has  often  saved  a  country  when  its  nominal  rulers 
are  utterly  untrustworthy.  But,  excellent  as  the  ser- 
vice has  been,  and,  I  believe,  in  many  of  its  branches 
still  is,  in  France,  it  is  scarcely  possible  that  it  should 
not  have  been  profoundly  affected  by  constant  fluctu- 
ations among  its  chiefs.  Partly  by  a  desire  to  weed  out 
all  officials  who  were  not  in  accordance  with  the  strict- 
est Eepublican  doctrine,  and  partly  by  the  imperious 
desire  felt  by  succeeding  ministries  to  provide  for  their 
followers,  a  system  of  change  has  grown  up  in  French 
official  life  much  like  that  which  has  done  so  much  to 
degrade  American  politics.^  It  is  not,  it  is  true,  car- 
ried to  the  same  extreme,  but  it  has  introduced  much 
instability  into  spheres  where  steady  continuity  is  of 
the  highest  importance. 

It  produces  not  only  the  evil  of  inexperience,  but 
also  the  still  greater  evil  of  a  lowered  tone.  No  careful 
student  of  French  politics  can  fail  to  have  been  struck 
with  the  many  instances,  since  the  establishment  of  the 
Eepublic,  in  which  diplomatists  and  other  officials  have 
violated  the  cardinal  article  of  professional  honour  by 
publishing  to  the  world  secrets  they  had  learned  in  con- 
fidential Government  posts.  There  can  be  no  surer  or 
more  ominous  sign  of  deterioration  in  official  life  ;  and 


>  Speaking  of  the  Civil  Ser-  prenait  la  parole  en  qualite  de 

vice  in  France,  M.  Leroy-Beau-  doyen,   disait-il,  des  directeurs 

lieu  says  :  '  Plus  la  societe  ap-  generaux    dn     ministere.      Ce 

proche  du  regime  democratique  doyen  avait    quarante-cinq    ou 

pur,  plus  cette  instabilite  s'ac-  quarante-six  ans,  si  non  moins. 

centue.    ...    La  France  sur  Que  de  revocations  ou  de  mises 

ce    point     se    fait    americaine.  prematurees  a  la  retraite  n'avait- 

Pour   ne   citer  qu'un  petit  fait  il   pas   fallu    pour    amener   ce 

qui  est  singulierement  significa-  decanat  precoce  ! '  (UEtat  et  ses 

tif,  en  1887  a  I'enterrenient  d'un  Fonctions^  pp.  65-66.)   See,  too, 

haut  fonctionnaire  du  ministere  Scherer,   Lci  Democraiie  et  la 

des  finances,   I'un   de   ses   col-  France^  pp.  26-32. 
l^gues,  bien    connu    d'ailleurs, 


eta.  I.  THE   FRENCH  REPUBLIC  47 

it  is  not  difficult  to  detect  its  causes.  Much  has  been 
due  to  the  frequency  of  revolutions,  the  functionaries 
of  one  dynasty  regarding  themselves  as  relieved  from 
all  obligation  to  secrecy  when  a  new  form  of  govern- 
ment was  established.  Much  is  also  due  to  the  charac- 
ter of  the  Eepublic.  A  prominent  French  politician 
who  was  for  four  years  prefect  of  police  published,  al- 
most immediately  after  he  left  office,  two  volumes  of 
'  recollections,'  full  of  anecdotes  which  would  be  con- 
sidered in  England  scandalous  violations  of  official 
confidence.  The  following  significant  lines  are  his 
own  defence.  '  After  having  found  that  all  means 
were  good  for  overthrowing  the  preceding  regimes,  the 
men  who  are  now  in  power,  in  order  to  consolidate 
their  own  authority,  claim  to  appropriate  all  the  tra- 
ditions of  the  monarchies  they  have  destroyed.  Under 
a  monarchy,  the  functionary  who  returns  to  private 
life  retains  obligations  of  gratitude  and  fidelity  towards 
the  dynasty  of  which  he  was  and  will  remain  the  sub- 
ject. But  in  the  system  of  our  institutions,  what  per- 
manent element  is  there  in  the  name  of  which  such 
obligations  can  be  imposed  on  me  ?  Do  I  owe  anything 
to  the  existing  Cabinet  ?  Is  it  not  composed  of  my  ad- 
versaries ?  Does  it  not  run  counter  to  all  the  ideas 
that  are  dear  to  me  ?  Does  it  not  obstruct  the  path  to 
the  hopes  of  a  better  future  ?  Does  it  not  impose  on 
my  country  a  policy  which  I  detest  ? '  ' 

We  may  judge  French  democracy  by  other  tests. 
Has  it  raised  France  to  a  higher  plane  of  liberty  than 
in  the  past  ?  The  latitude  of  speaking  and  writing 
and  dramatic  representation  is,  no  doubt,  extremely 
great,  but  few  modern  French  Governments,  in  their 
religious  policy  and  in  their  educational  policy,  have 


'  Andrieux,  Souvenirs  d'un  Preftt  de  Police^  ii.  53-54. 


4:8  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  I. 

made  more  determined  efforts  to  force  upon  great 
masses  of  the  population  a  system  of  education  they 
detested,  or  to  deprive  them  of  the  religious  conso- 
lation they  most  dearly  prized.  It  is  very  doubtful 
whether  the  religious  policy  of  Jules  Ferry  and  the 
educational  policy  of  Paul  Bert  were  approved  of  by  the 
majority  of  Frenchmen.  They  are,  probably,  among 
the  many  instances  in  which  a  resolute  and  well-organ- 
ised minority  have  forced  their  policy  on  a  majority 
who  were  for  the  most  part  languid,  divided,  or  unor- 
ganised. If  the  opinions  of  women  as  well  as  of  men 
be  taken  into  account,  as  they  surely  should  be  in  ques- 
tions of  religion  and  education,  there  can  be  little 
doubt  that  the  Government  policy  was  that  of  a  not 
very  considerable  minority.  The  essential  character- 
istic of  true  liberty  is,  that  under  its  shelter  many  dif- 
ferent types  of  life  and  character,  and  opinion  and  be- 
lief can  develop  unmolested  and  unobstructed.  Can 
it  be  said  that  the  French  Republic  represents  this 
liberty  in  a  higher  degree  than  other  Governments  ? 
It  has  been  called  a  Government  of  the  working-classes, 
but  has  it  in  this  respect  any  extraordinary  claim  to 
our  respect  ?  On  nearly  all  working-class  questions,  it 
will  be  found  that  France  has  been  preceded  on  the 
path  of  progress  by  British  legislation.  At  the  present 
day,  the  hours  of  work  of  the  French  labourer  are  in 
general  much  longer  than  those  of  the  Englishman ; 
and  I  believe  the  English  workmen,  who  have  of  late 
years  so  carefully  examined  continental  legislations, 
have  very  generally  concluded  that  they  have  nothing 
to  envy  in  the  industrial  habits  or  legislation  of  the 
Republic. 

Has  it,  at  least,  managed  with  peculiar  wisdom  the 
resources  of  France  ?  The  history  of  Frencli  finances 
in  the  nineteenth  century  is  a  very  curious  one,  and  a 


CH.  I.  HISTORY   OF   FRENCH  FINANCE  49 

brief  retrospect  will  not,  I  think,  be  irrelevant  to  my 
present  purpose,  for  it  throws  much  real  and  instruc- 
tive light  on  the  tendencies  of  democracies.  We  may 
start  from  the  year  1814,  when  the  great  French  war 
was  concluded.  There  was  then  an  extraordinary  con- 
trast between  the  financial  condition  of  Great  Britain 
and  that  of  her  conquered  adversary.  Great  Britain 
seemed  almost  crushed  by  her  enormous  debt,  while 
the  debt  of  France  was  quite  inconsiderable.  Partly 
by  unsparing  levies  on  conquered  nations,  and  partly 
by  his  own  extremely  skilful  management  of  French 
resources,  Napoleon  had  made  his  great  wars  almost 
self-supporting.  Putting  aside  the  debts  of  conquered 
or  annexed  countries,  the  whole  debt  of  France  created 
between  1800  and  1814  amounted  only  to  an  annual 
payment  in  interest  of  seven  millions  of  francs,  to  a 
nominal  capital  of  140  millions,  or  less  than  six  mill- 
ions of  pounds.^ 

The  Hundred  Days,  the  war  indemnity  exacted  after 
Waterloo  by  the  Allies  for  their  expense  in  the  war, 
the  cost  of  the  army  of  occupation,  the  large  sums 
which  were  voted  in  compensation  to  the  plundered 
'  emigres,'  ^  and  the  years  of  impaired  and  depreciated 
credit  that  followed  the  Eestoration,  added  largely  to 
the  debt ;  but  in  the  opinion  of  the  best  contemporary 
authority  on  French  finance,  the  Government  of  the 
Restoration,  in  this  branch  of  administration,  was  one 
of  the  most  skilful,  honourable,  and  economical  France 
has  ever  known.  The  credit  of  the  country  was  never 
so  high  as  in  1830,  and  although  the  debt  was  in- 
creased, it  was  still  very  trifling  in  comparison  with  the 


'  Leroy-Beaulieu,  La  Science         *  Rather  more   than  twenty- 
des  Finances  (ed.  1892),  ii.  556.      five  millioas  of  francs.    Ibid.  p. 

495. 


50  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

resources  of  France.  When  Louis  XVIII.  came  to  the  . 
throne  it  involved  an  annual  payment  in  interest  of 
rather  more  than  sixty-three  millions  of  francs.  In 
1830  this  payment  had  risen  to  1645  millions.  Eatlier 
more  than  four  million  pounds  had  thus  been  added  to 
the  annual  debt  charge.* 

The  reign  of  Louis  Philippe  was  conducted  on  much 
the  same  lines  ;  and  although  the  debt  continued  to 
grow,  it  grew  at  a  far  slower  rate  than  the  revenue  of 
the  country.  In  the  eighteen  years  of  his  reign  Louis 
Philippe  added  about  twelve  and  a  half  millions  of 
francs,  or  500,000/.,  to  the  annual  debt-charge.  When 
his  Government  fell,  in  1848,  the  French  debt  was  the 
second  in  Europe  ;  but  it  was  still  only  a  fourth  part 
of  that  of  Great  Britain,  and  if  the  French  monarchy 
had  been  as  stable  as  that  of  England,  there  can  be 
little  doubt  that  French  credit  would  have  attained 
the  English  level. ^ 

Then  came  the  democratic  Eepublic  of  1848.  It 
lasted  for  three  years,  and  in  those  three  years  France 
increased  her  debt  more  than  in  the  twenty-five  years 
between  1823  and  1848.  In  1852,  when  the  Empire  be- 
gan, the  debt-charge  was  about  231  millions  of  francs. 
The  French  debt  was  now  a  little  less  than  a  third  of 
that  of  England.^ 

During  many  years  of  the  Second  Empire  the  wealth 
of  France  increased  perhaps  more  rapidly  than  in  any 
other  period  of  her  history.  Much  of  this  prosperity 
was,  no  doubt,  due  to  the  astonishing  impulse  then 
given  to  all  forms  of  production  by  Californian  and 
Australian  gold,  but  much  also  was  due  to  the  saga- 
cious energy  with  which  the  Government  assisted  ma- 


'  Leroy-Beaulieu,   La  Science        "^  Ibid.  pp.  563-64. 
des  Finances  (ed.  1892),  ii.  556-63.         =•  Ibid.  p.  664. 


CH.  I.  HISTORY   OP    FRENCH    FINANCE  51 

terial  development.  The  railway  system,  which  had 
been  very  insufficiently  developed  under  Louis  Phi- 
lippe, was  now  brought  to  great  perfection.  A  policy 
of  judicious  free  trade  immensely  stimulated  industry, 
and  nearly  every  kind  of  enterprise  was  assisted  by  the 
Government.  Vast  sums  were  expended,  and  usually 
with  singular  intelligence,  on  public  works.  The  Con- 
stitution of  1852  reserved  to  the  Emperor  the  right  of 
authorising  such  works  by  simple  decree,  and  also  the 
right  of  transferring  the  credits  voted  for  one  depart- 
ment to  another.  But  it  was  the  policy  of  the  Emperor 
through  his  whole  reign  to  secure  the  popularity  of 
his  government  by  keeping  the  taxes  low  and  unaltered, 
and  meeting  the  growing  expenditure  by  constant 
loans.  Almost  the  whole  cost  of  the  Crimean  War,  the 
Italian  War,  and  the  Mexican  expedition,  and  also  an 
immense  part  of  the  habitual  expenditure  of  tlie  Gov- 
ernment in  times  of  peace,  was  raised  in  this  way. 
The  extravagance  of  this  system  was  in  part  concealed 
by  the  complexity  of  French  financial  administration, 
under  which  several  distinct  budgets  were  usually  put 
forward  in  a  year,  and  also  by  the  device  of  a  very  large 
floating  debt.  One  of  the  most  important  steps  taken 
under  the  Empire  was  the  introduction  of  a  new  sys- 
tem of  raising  loans.  Instead  of  appealing  to  a  few 
great  capitalists,  the  Emperor  threw  open  the  loans  by 
direct  subscription  to  the  whole  nation,  dividing  them 
in  such  small  portions  that  nearly  all  classes  could 
afford  to  subscribe.  There  is  much  difference  of  opin- 
ion about  the  economical  advantages  of  this  plan,  but 
there  can  be  no  doubt  of  its  extreme  popularity.  The 
small  Government  bonds  were  eagerly  taken  up,  and 
loans  became  as  popular  as  taxes  were  unpopular. 
There  can  also  be  no  doubt  that,  by  interesting  an  im- 
mense portion  of  the  people  in  the  security  of  the 


52  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

national  debt,  the  new  system  greatly  improved  the 
national  credit  and  strengthened  the  conservative  ele- 
ment in  France.  It  was  computed  that  in  1830  there 
were  at  the  utmost  not  more  than  125,000  persons  in 
France  holding  portions  of  the  national  debt.  In  1869 
the  number  had  probably  risen  to  between  700,000  and 
800,000,  and  in  1881  it  is  believed  to  have  been  more 
than  4,000,000.  Either  in  this  way  or  as  owners  of 
land  the  great  majority  of  the  heads  of  families  in 
France  had  a  direct  interest  in  the  prosperity  of  the 
State. ^ 

The  system  of  government  under  the  Second  Em- 
pire, and  especially  in  its  first  ten  or  twelve  years,  de- 
serves more  careful  and  impartial  examination  than  it 
is  likely  to  receive  from  the  generation  which  wit- 
nessed the  catastrophes  of  the  Franco-German  War.  It 
was  a  government  with  no  real  constitutional  freedom, 
no  liberty  of  the  press,  no  liberty  of  public  meeting.  It 
sheltered  or  produced  great  corruption,  and  repressed 
with  arbitrary  and  tyrannical  violence  political  oppo- 
nents. It  was  detested  by  the  educated  classes,  by  the 
minority  of  the  population  who  seriously  cared  for 
political  freedom,  and,  in  spite  of  the  enormous  sums 
that  were  expended  in  public  works  in  Paris,  it  never 
succeeded  in  winning  the  affections  of  the  Parisian 
workmen.  On  the  other  hand,  the  theory  of  pater- 
nal government  exercised  in  a  thoroughly  democratic 
spirit  had  probably  never  before  been  carried  out  with 
equal  energy  and  intelligence.  The  Emperor  contin- 
ually looked  for  his  support  to  the  great  inarticulate 
masses  of  his  people.  To  promote  their  immediate 
material  well-being  was  the  first  object  of  his  policy. 


'  Leroy-Beaulieu,  La  Science  des  Finances,  ii.  564-70. 


OH.  I.  HISTORY  OF  FRENCH  FINANCE  53 

No  preceding  Government  had  done  so  much  to  stimu- 
late industry  in  all  its  forms,  to  develop  latent  resources, 
and  to  provide  constant  and  remunerative  employment. 
For  many  years  he  succeeded  in  an  eminent  degree,* 
and  there  is  very  little  doubt  that  the  last  plebiscite 
which  sanctioned  his  rule  reflected  the  real  feelings  of 
the  numerical  majority  of  Frenchmen.  If  100,000  more 
French  soldiers  had  been  present  on  the  field  of  Worth, 
and  if  the  French  commander  had  happened  to  be  a 
man  of  genius,  it  is  very  possible  that  the  Empire 
might  have  existed  to  the  present  day. 

M.  Leroy-Beaulieu  calculates  that  in  the  beginning 
of  1870  —  the  year  of  the  war  —  the  interest  of  the 
consolidated  debt  was  about  129  millions  of  francs, 
or  about  5,160,000  pounds  sterling  more  than  it 
had  been  in  1852,  when  the  Emperor  ascended  the 
throne.  The  whole  debt-charge  was  360  millions  of 
francs.  It  represented  a  nominal  capital  of  rather  less 
than  twelve  milliards  of  francs,  or  480  millions  of 
pounds  ;  and  there  was  in  addition  a  floating  debt, 
which  at  the  beginning  of  1870  had  been  recently 
reduced  to  somewhat  less  than  thirty-two  millions  of 
pounds.^ 

But  the  Empire  bequeathed  to  the  Republic  which 
followed  it  an  appalling  legacy.  France  was  compelled 
to  pay  Germany  an  indemnity  of  200  millions  of  pounds, 
and  her  own  war  expenses  were  only  a  few  millions 
below  that  sum.     Nearly  the  whole  of  these  colos- 


'  Full  particulars   about    the  The  writer  had  evidently  access 

industrial  and  financial  history  to  the  best  sources  of  informa- 

of  the   first  ten  years   of  the  tion. 

Empire  will  be  found  in  a  very  '  Leroy-Beaulieu,  La  Science 

able   book,   published  in   1802,  des    Finances^   ii.    570;    Chau- 

called  Ten   Years  of  Imperial-  dordy,  La  France  en  1889,  pp. 

ism  in  France^  by  '  A  Flaneur.'  62-53. 


64  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

sal  sums  were  raised  by  loans  between  1870  and  1874, 
and  added  to  the  permanent  capital  of  the  debt. 

The  French  debt  had  now  greatly  outstripped  the 
English  one.  In  the  early  years  of  the  Kepublic,  and 
especially  during  the  ascendency  of  M.  Thiers,  French 
finances  appear  to  have  been  managed  with  economy 
and  skill.  But  in  1878  a  new  system  of  prodigality 
began  which  far  exceeded  that  of  the  Second  Empire, 
and  which  appears  to  have  continued  to  the  present 
time.  A  few  plain  figures  will  placa  the  situation  be- 
fore the  reader.  The  nominal  value  of  the  debt  of 
France  according  to  the  Budget  of  1892  was  about 
thirty-two  milliards  of  francs,  or  1,280  millions  of 
pounds.  The  annual  debt-charge  was  about  1,000,- 
250,000  francs,  or  fifty  million  pounds — about  double 
the  present  interest  of  the  debt  of  Great  Britain  ;  and 
in  the  twelve  years  of  perfect  peace  from  1881  to  1892 
France  increased  her  debt  by  more  than  five  milliards 
of  francs,  or  200  millions  of  pounds — a  sum  equal  to 
the  whole  war  indemnity  which  she  had  been  obliged  to 
pay  to  Germany  after  the  war  of  1870.'  And  this 
debt  is  irrespective  of  the  large  and  rapidly  growing 
debts  of  the  communes  and  municipalities. 

A  great  part  of  it  was,  no  doubt,  incurred  for  military 
purposes.  The  creation  of  a  magnificent  army  ;  the  for- 
tification of  a  country  which  the  loss  of  Strasburg  and 
Metz  had  left  very  vulnerable,  and  the  formation  of  a 
vast  and  costly  navy,  which  was  probably  intended  to 
intimidate  Italy  and  overbalance  the  power  of  England 
in  the  Mediterranean,  account  for  much.  Much,  too, 
was  due  to  the  great  energy  with  which  the  French 


'  Leroy-Beaulieu,  La  Science  des  Finances,  ii.  678-81  ;  see,  too, 
Martin's  Statesman's  Year-Book,  1893  (France). 


OH.  I.  CORRUPTION  AND  EXTRAVAGANCE  55 

Kepublic  has  pushed  on  the  work  of  national  edu- 
cation ;  and  the  expense  of  this  work  was  enormously 
increased  by  the  anti-ecclesiastical  spirit  which  insisted 
on  building  fresh  schoolhouses  where  ecclesiastical 
schools  were  abundantly  supplied,  and  which  refused 
to  make  any  use  of  the  great  voluntary  institutions  es- 
tablished by  the  Church.  But,  in  addition  to  these 
things,  there  has  been  another  great  source  of  expense, 
on  which  the  best  French  economists  dilate  with  un- 
feigned alarm.  It  is  the  enormous  and  wasteful  ex- 
penditure on  public  works  which  are,  for  the  most 
part,  unremunerative ;  which  are  intended,  by  giving 
employment,  to  conciliate  the  working-classes,  and 
which  are  extended  to  every  department,  almost  to 
every  commune,  as  a  reward  for  supporting  the  Gov- 
ernment. Much  of  this  kind  was  done — especially  at 
Paris — under  the  Second  Empire,  but  the  system  never 
acquired  the  enormous  extension  and  extravagance  that 
it  has  assumed  under  the  Eepublic.  The  name  of  M. 
de  Freycinet  is  specially  attached  to  this  great  develop- 
ment of  public  works ;  but,  as  mi^ht  be  expected,  it 
soon  far  outgrew  the  proportions  which  its  author  had 
originally  assigned  to  it,  though  his  first  idea  was  to 
spend  four  milliards  of  francs,  or  160  millions  of 
pounds,  on  railways  alone.  Very  naturally,  such  a 
system  of  artificial  employment  having  been  started,  it 
was  found  impossible  to  abandon  it.  Very  naturally, 
every  locality  desired  its  share  of  the  beneficence  of  the 
Government.  Countless  millions  were  squandered, 
either  in  purely  Government  work,  or  in  trebling  or 
quadrupling  local  subventions,  or  in  rendering  gratu- 
itous public  services  which  had  once  paid  their  ex- 
penses, or  in  multiplying  inordinately  Government 
posts.  And  the  result  was  that,  at  a  time  when  severe 
economy  was  imperiously  required,  the  Republic  added 


56  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  l 

to  its  debt  a  sum  which  was  little,  if  at  all,  less  than 
the  expense  of  the  war  of  1870.' 

We  can  hardly  have  a  more  impressive  illustration  of 
the  truth  that  universal  suffrage  wholly  fails  to  repre- 
sent the  best  qualities  of  a  nation.  No  people  in  their 
private  capacities  are  more  distinguished  than  the 
French  for  their  business  talent,  for  their  combination 
of  intelligent  industry  with  great  parsimony,  for  the 
courage  with  which  in  times  of  difficulty  they  retrench 
their  expenditure.  Yet  few  Governments  have  been 
more  lavishly  and  criminally  extravagant  than  those 
which  have  emanated  from  universal  suffrage  in  France. 

The  forms  of  corruption  which  are  practised  in  a 
pure  democracy  are  in  general  far  more  detrimental  to 
the  prosperity  of  nations  than  those  which  existed  in 
other  days.  Sinecures,  and  corrupt  pensions,  and 
Court  favours,  and  small  jobs,  and  the  purchase  of 
seats  of  Parliament,  may  all  be  carried  very  far  with- 
out seriously  burdening  the  national  revenues.  A  mill- 
ionaire may  squander  with  reckless  profusion  his 
shillings  and  his  pence,  but  as  long  as  the  main  lines 
of  his  expenditure  are  wisely  ordered  he  will  find  no 
great  difference  at  the  end  of  the  year.  There  are,  it 
is  true,  occasional  instances  in  which  the  extravagance 
of  an  individual  or  of  a  Court  may  have  ruined  a  na- 
tion. The  most  amazing  modern  example  has  been 
that  of  Ismail  Pasha,  who,  in  the  thirteen  years  be- 
tween 1863  and  1876,  raised  the  Egyptian  debt  from  a 
little  over  three  millions  of  pounds  to  eighty-nine  mill- 
ions, and  who,  mainly  through  his  personal  extrava- 


■  See  on  this  subject,  Scherer,  roy-Beaulieu,  La  Science  des  Fi- 

La  Democratie  et  la  France,  pp.  nances,  ii.  277-78 ;  Chaudordy, 

29-33 ;  Leroy-Beaulieu,  L'Etat  La  France  en  1889,  pp.  54-62. 
et  ses  Fonctions^  pp.  137-74 ;  Le- 


CH.  I.     CORRUPTION  AND  EXTRAVAGANCE       57 

gance  and  reckless  gambling,  burdened  a  poor  and 
struggling  population  of  six  million  souls  with  an 
annual  payment  for  interest  of  not  less  than  seven  mill- 
ions of  pounds.^  Such  prodigies  of  colossal  selfishness, 
however,  are,  happily,  rare  ;  and  if  the  world  had  not 
come  to  form  a  wholly  false  measure  of  the  enormity 
of  political  crimes,  both  in  rulers  and  subjects,  they 
would  lead  to  something  very  different  from  a  simple 
deposition. 

Corrupt  Governments  are  not  necessarily  on  the 
whole  extravagant.  The  great  corruption  which  un- 
doubtedly prevailed  in  the  French  Government  under 
Louis  Philippe  did  not  prevent  that  Government  from 
managing  French  finances  with  an  economy  which,  in 
the  light  of  later  experience,  can  only  be  regarded  as 
admirable.  The  Jobs  and  sinecures  and  pensions  of 
the  Irish  Parliament  in  the  eighteenth  century  were 
very  notorious ;  yet  Irish  statesmen  truly  said  that  un- 
til the  outbreak  of  the  great  French  war  Ireland  was 
one  of  the  least  taxed  nations,  and  its  Government  one 
of  the  cheapest  Governments  in  Europe.  These  kinds 
of  corruption  do  much  to  lower  the  character  of  Gov- 
ernments and  to  alienate  from  them  the  public  spirit 
and  enthusiasm  that  should  support  them  ;  but  except 
in  very  small  and  poor  countries  they  seldom  amount 
to  a  serious  economical  evil.  "Wars,  overgrown  arma- 
ments, policies  that  shake  credit  and  plunder  large 
classes,  laws  that  hamper  industry,  the  forms  of  cor- 
ruption which  bribe  constituencies  or  classes  by  great 
public  expenditure,  by  lavish,  partial,  unjust  taxation 
— these  are  the  things  that  really  ruin  the  finances  of  a 
nation.  To  most  of  these  evils  unqualified  democracies 
are  especially  liable. 


*  Milner's  Egypt,  p.  216. 


^8  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

Modern  Radicalism  is  accustomed  to  dilate  miicli 
upon  the  cost  to  a  nation  of  endowing  princes  and  sup- 
porting the  pageantry  of  a  Court.  If  there  be  a  lesson 
which  repeated  and  very  recent  experience  clearly 
teaches,  it  is  the  utter  insignificance  of  such  expendi- 
ture, compared  with  the  cost  of  any  revolution  which 
renders  the  supreme  power  in  a  State  precarious,  low- 
ers the  national  credit,  drives  out  of  a  country  great 
masses  of  capital,  dislocates  its  industry  and  trade,  or 
gives  a  false  and  extravagant  ply  to  its  financial  policy. 
Brazil  and  Spain  are  poor  countries,  but  the  millions 
that  have  been  lost  to  them  by  revolutions  due  to  the 
selfish  ambition  of  a  few  unprincipled  adventurers 
would  have  gone  far  to  pay  for  all  the  extravagances  of 
all  the  Courts  in  Europe. 

France  can,  no  doubt,  bear  the  burden  of  her  enor- 
mous debt  better  than  most  countries.  Her  great  na- 
tural advantages,  her  vast  accumulated  wealth,  the 
admirable  industrial  qualities  of  her  people,  the  wide 
distribution  among  them  both  of  landed  property  and 
of  portions  of  the  national  debt,  and  the  fact  that  this 
debt  is  mainly  held  within  the  country,  have  all  con- 
tributed to  the  high  credit  which  she  still  enjoys. 
Great  as  is'  her  present  debt,  it  bears  a  much  smaller 
proportion  to  her  riches  than  the  English  debt  did 
to  the  revenue  of  Great  Britain  at  the  Peace  of 
1815,  than  the  debts  of  Italy  and  Russia  still  bear  to 
their  national  resources.  No  one  can  doubt  that,  if  a 
policy  of  strict  economy  and  steady  peace  is  pursued  in 
France  for  the  coming  half-century,  her  finances  will 
again  become  very  sound.  Some  portions  of  her  debt 
consist  of  terminable  annuities.  The  good  credit  which 
is  largely  due  to  the  wide  diffusion  of  the  debt  among 
Frenchmen  renders  the  policy  of  conversion  at  dimin- 
ished interest  possible  ;  and  in  1950  the  railways  of 


OH.  I.  THE  FINANCE  OP  THE  REPUBLIC      •  69 

France  will  become  national  property.  A  country 
which  was  able  in  1894  to  convert  without  difficulty 
280,000,000?.  of  stock  bearing  4|  per  cent,  interest  into 
3|-per-cent.  stock  is  certainly  in  no  desperate  financial 
condition,  and  the  cheapness  and  abundance  of  money, 
while  it  increases  the  temptation  to  borrow,  dimin- 
ishes the  burden  of  debts. 

But,  in  spite  of  all  these  things,  no  serious  French 
economist  can  contemplate  without  alarm  the  gigantic 
strides  with  which  both  her  debt  and  her  taxation  have 
of  late  years  advanced.  Such  men  well  know  that  few 
national  diseases  are  more  insidious  in  their  march, 
more  difficult  to  arrest,  more  disastrous  in  their  ulti- 
mate consequences.  The  immediate  stimulus  to  em- 
ployment given  by  a  new  loan  masks  its  ultimate  and 
permanent  effects,  and  if  the  interest  alone  is  paid  out 
of  taxation,  the  increase  is  at  first  scarcely  perceptible. 
No  one  can  suppose  that  France  is  destined  for  a  long 
period  to  remain  at  peace,  and  there  is  very  little  pros- 
pect of  serious  retrenchment  in  her  internal  affairs.  A 
policy  which  would  involve  greatly  diminished  ex- 
penditure in  public  works,  and,  at  the  same  time,  con- 
siderable increase  of  taxation,  can  never  be  popular 
with  the  great  uninstructed  masses,  on  whose  votes  all 
French  Governments  now  depend.  Few  Governments 
would  venture  to  propose  it,  and  least  of  all  feeble, 
transitory,  and  precarious  Governments,  like  those 
which  have  existed  in  France  since  1870.  Such  Gov- 
ernments necessarily  take  short  views,  and  look  eagerly 
for  immediate  support.  All  the  lines  of  policy  that 
are  most  fitted  to  appeal  to  the  imagination  and  win 
the  favour  of  an  uninstructed  democracy  are  lines  of 
policy  involving  increased  expenditure,  and  the  whole 
tendency  of  European  democracy  is  towards  enlarging 
the  functions  and  burdens  of  the  State.     When  great 


60  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  1. 

sections  of  the  people  have  come  habitually  to  look  to 
Government  for  support,  it  becomes  impossible  to  with- 
draw, and  exceedingly  difficult  to  restrict,  that  sup- 
port. Public  works  which  are  undertaken  through 
political  motives,  and  which  private  enterprise  would 
refuse  to  touch,  are  scarcely  ever  remunerative.  On 
the  other  hand,  nothing  can  be  more  certain  than  that 
the  evil  of  excessive  taxation  is  not  merely  to  be  meas- 
ured by  the  amount  which  is  directly  taken  from  the 
taxpayer ;  its  indirect,  remote  consequences  are  much 
more  serious  than  its  direct  ones.  Industries  which 
are  too  heavily  weighted  can  no  longer  compete  with 
those  of  countries  where  they  are  more  lightly  taxed. 
Industries  and  capital  both  emigrate  to  quarters  where 
they  are  less  burdened  and  more  productive.  The 
credit  which  a  nation  enjoys  on  the  Stock  exchange 
is  a  deceptive  test,  for  the  finance  of  the  market  seldom 
looks  beyond  the  prospect  of  a  few  years.  A  false  secur- 
ity grows  up,  until  the  nation  at  last  slowly  finds  that 
it  has  entered  irretrievably  on  the  path  of  decadence. 

It  is  scarcely  to  be  expected,  under  the  conditions  I 
have  described,  that  the  tone  of  public  life  should  be 
very  high.  The  disclosures  that  followed  the  Panama 
scandals,  though  the  most  startling,  were  by  no  means 
the  only  signs  that  have  thrown  ominous  light  on  this 
subject.  Scherer,  in  an  admirable  work,  has  described 
in  detail  the  action  of  the  present  system  on  French 
political  life.  Nearly  every  deputy,  he  says,  enters 
the  Chamber  encumbered  with  many  promises  to  indi- 
viduals ;  the  main  object  of  his  policy  is  usually  to 
secure  his  re-election  after  four  years,  and  the  methods 
by  which  this  may  be  done  are  well  known.  There  is 
the  branch  line  of  railroad  which  must  be  obtained  for 
the  district ;  there  is  the  fountain  that  should  be 
erected  in  the  public  place  ;  there  is,  perhaps,  even 


CH.  I.  FRENCH  POLITICAL  LIFE  61 

the  restoration  of  the  parish  church  to  be  effected. 
But  it  is  not  less  important  that  all  public  offices  which 
carry  with  them  any  local  influence  should  be  in  the 
hands  of  his  supporters.  He  therefore  at  once  puts 
pressure  on  the  Government,  which  usually  purchases 
his  support  by  giving  him  the  patronage  he  desires. 
There  is  a  constant  shifting  in  the  smaller  local  offices. 
Never,  it  is  said,  were  there  so  many  dismissals  and 
changes  in  these  offices  as  during  the  Eepublic  ;  and 
they  have  been  mainly  due  to  the  desire  of  the  depu- 
ties to  make  room  for  their  supporters  or  their  chil- 
dren. The  idea  that  a  vote  is  a  personal  favour,  estab- 
lishing a  claim  to  a  personal  reward,  has  rapidly  spread. 
At  the  same  time,  any  vote  in  favour  of  public  works, 
and  especially  public  works  in  his  own  constituency ; 
any  reorganisation  that  tends  to  increase  the  number 
of  men  in  Government  employment,  increases  the 
popularity  of  the  deputy.  The  socialistic  spirit  takes 
different  forms  in  different  countries,  and  this  is  the 
form  it  seems  specially  adopting  in  France.  The  old 
idea,  that  the  representative  Chamber  is  pre-eminently 
a  check  upon  extravagance,  a  jealous  guardian  of  the 
public  purse,  seems  to  have  almost  vanished  in  demo- 
cratic countries,  and  nowhere  more  completely  than  in 
France.  In  the  words  of  Leon  Say,  a  great  proportion 
of  the  deputies  are,  beyond  all  things,  '  agents  for  in- 
stigating to  expense,'  seeking  to  secure  a  livelihood 
out  of  the  public  taxes  for  the  greatest  possible  num- 
ber of  their  electors.  The  electoral  committee,  or,  as 
we  should  say,  the  local  caucus,  governs  the  d«puty, 
who,  in  his  turn,  under  the  system  of  small  parliamen- 
tary groups  and  weak  and  perpetually  fluctuating  minis- 
tries, exercises  an  exaggerated  influence  on  the  Admin- 
istration.* 

'  Scherer,  La  Democratit  et  la  France,  pp.  22-38. 


62  .  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

"We  may,  in  the  last  place,  ask  whether  democracy 
has  given  France  a  nobler  and  more  generous  foreign 
policy.  French  writers  have  often  claimed  for  their 
country  that,  more  than  any  other,  it  has  been  gov- 
erned by  '  ideas  ; '  that  it  has  been  the  chief  torch- 
bearer  of  civilisation  ;  that  French  public  opinion  is 
pre-eminently  capable  of  rising  above  the  limits  of 
a  narrow  patriotism  in  order  to  support,  popularise, 
and  propagate  movements  of  cosmopolitan  liberalism. 
These  cosmopolitan  sympathies,  it  must  be  owned, 
sometimes  fade  into  Utopia,  and  lead  to  a  neglect 
of  the  duties  of  a  rational  patriotism ;  and  not  un- 
frequently  they  have  either  disguised,  or  served, 
or  ended  in,  designs  of  very  selfish  military  aggran- 
disement. Still,  no  impartial  student  will  deny  that 
France  has  for  a  long  period  represented  in  an  eminent 
degree  the  progressive  element  in  European  civilisa- 
tion ;  that  her  great  influence  has  usually  been  thrown 
into  the  scale  of  freedom,  enlightenment,  and  toler- 
ance. Can  this  noble  position  be  now  claimed  for 
her  ?  Can  it  be  denied  that  a  policy  of  rancour  and 
revenge  has,  in  the  later  phases  of  her  history,  made 
her  strangely  false  to  the  nobler  instincts  of  her  past  ? 
Let  the  reader  follow,  in  the  work  of  Sir  Alfred  Mil- 
ner,  the  account  of  the  way  in  which,  through  very  un- 
worthy motives,  she  has  obstructed  in  Egypt  all  those 
reforms  which  were  manifestly  necessary  to  relieve  the 
misery  of  the  Egyptian  fellah.  Or,  let  him  take  a 
more  conspicuous  instance,  and  study  that  most  hideous 
story  of  our  century — the  Russian  persecution  of  the 
Jews — and  then  remember  that  it  was  on  the  morrow 
of  this  persecution  that  the  French  democracy  threw 
itself,  in  a  transport  of  boundless,  unqualified  enthusi- 
asm, into  the  arms  of  Russia,  and  declared  by  all  its 
organs  that  French   and   Russian  policies  were  now 


CH.  I.  FRENCH  FOREIGN  POLICY  63 

identified  in  the  world.  Few  sadder,  yet  few  more  sig- 
nificant spectacles  have  been  witnessed  in  our  time 
than  this  enthusiastic  union,  in  1893,  of  the  chief 
democracy  of  Europe  with  its  one  great  persecuting 
despotism.  Could  there  be  a  more  eloquent  lesson  on 
the  tendencies  of  democracy  than  was  furnished  by  the 
joyous  and  almost  puerile  delight  with  which  France 
identified  herself  with  the  cause  of  reaction,  and  re- 
signed to  others  her  old  supremacy  in  European  liberal- 
ism ?  What  a  change  since  the  days  when  George 
Sand  heralded  the  triumph  of  democracy,  in  1848,  as 
introducing,  by  the  initiative  of  France,  a  new  era  of 
progress  and  enlightenment  among  mankind ;  since 
Michelet  described  France  as  the  armed  sentinel  of 
Europe,  guarding  its  civilisation  against  the  barbarians 
of  the  North  ;  since  Lamartine,  in  lines  of  exquisite 
beauty,  proclaimed  the  cosmopolitan  fraternity  which 
was  soon  to  make  patriotism  itself  an  obsolete  senti- 
ment, too  narrow  and  too  harsh  for  a  regenerated  hu- 
manity 1 

Nations !  Mot  pompeux  pour  dire  barbarie  1 
L'amour  s'arrgte-t-il  ou  s'arr^tent  vos  pas  ? 
Dechirez  ees  drapeaux,  une  autre  voix  vous  crie : 
L'6goisme  et  la  haine  ont  seuls  une  patrie, 
La  Fraternit6  n'en  a  pas. ' 

The  conditions  of  American  democracy  are  essen- 
tially different  from  those  of  democracy  in  France,  and 
the  effects  of  this  great  experiment  in  government  must 
be  profoundly  interesting  to  every  serious  political  in- 
quirer. I  have  already  referred  briefly  to  its  charac- 
ter. It  would  be  impossible  in  a  book  like  the  present, 
it  would  be  presumptuous  on  the  part  of  a  stranger, 


*  *La  Marseillaise  de  la  Paix.' 


64  DEMOCRACY  AOT)  LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

and  after  the  great  works  which,  in  the  present  gen- 
eration, have  been  written  on  the  subject,  to  attempt 
to  give  a  full  account  of  the  workings  of  American 
democracy,  but  a  few  salient  facts  may  be  gathered 
which  will  throw  much  light  upon  my  present  subject. 
One  of  the  chief  errors  of  English  political  writers  of 
the  last  generation  in  dealing  with  this  topic  arose 
from  their  very  superficial  knowledge  of  American 
institutions,  which  led  them  to  believe  that  the  Amer- 
ican Government  was  generically  of  the  same  kind  as 
the  Government  of  England,  the  chief  difference  being 
that  a  majority  of  the  people  could  always  carry  out 
their  will  with  more  prompt,  decisive,  unrestrained 
efficiency.  The  English  public  have  at  last,  it  may  be 
hoped,  learned  to  perceive  that  this  notion  is  radically 
false.  In  England,  a  simple  majority  of  Parliament  is 
capable,  with  the  assent  of  the  Crown,  of  carrying  out 
any  constitutional  change,  however  revolutionary  ;  and 
the  House  of  Commons,  in  practice,  has  absorbed  to 
itself  all  the  main  power  in  the  Constitution.  A 
chance  majority,  formed  out  of  many  different  political 
fractions,  acting  through  different  motives,  and  with 
different  objects,  may  change  fundamentally  the  Con- 
stitution of  the  country.  The  Eoyal  veto  has  become 
wholly  obsolete.  The  Eoyal  power  under  all  normal 
circumstances  is  exercised  at  the'dietation  of  a  ministry 
which  owes  its  being  to  the  majority  of  the  House  of 
Commons,  and  if  the  Crown  can  occasionally  exercise 
some  independent  political  influence,  it  can  only  be  in 
rare  and  exceptional  circumstances,  or  in  indirect  and 
subordinate  ways.  The  House  of  Lords  has,  it  is  true, 
greater  power,  and  can  still,  by  a  suspensive  veto,  delay 
great  changes  until  they  are  directly  sanctioned  by  the 
constituencies  at  an  election.  But  after  such  sanction 
it  is  scarcely  possible  that  such  changes  should  be  re- 


CH.  I.        AMERICAN  AND  ENGLISH  DEMOCRACY  65 

sisted,  however  narrow  may  be  the  majorities  in  their 
favour,  however  doubtful  may  be  the  motives  by  which 
these  majorities  were  obtained. 

In  America  the  position  of  the  House  of  Kepresenta- 
tives  is  widely  different  from  that  of  the  House  of 
Commons.  It  is  a  body  in  which  the  ministers  do  not 
sit,  and  which  has  no  power  of  making  or  destroying  a 
ministry.  It  is  confronted  by  a  Senate  which  does  not 
rest  on  the  democratic  basis  of  mere  numbers,  but 
which  can  exercise  a  much  more  real  restraining  power 
than  the  House  of  Lords.  It  is  confronted  also  by  a 
President  who  is  himself  chosen  ultimately  by  manhood 
suffrage,  but  in  a  different  way  from  the  House  of  Rep- 
resentatives, and  who  exercises  an  independent  power 
vastly  greater  than  a  modern  British  sovereign.  It  is, 
above  all,  restricted  by  a  written  Constitution  under 
the  protection  of  a  great,  independent  law  court,  which 
makes  it  impossible  for  it  to  violate  contracts,  or  to  in- 
fringe any  fundamental  liberty  of  the  people,  or  to 
carry  any  constitutional  change,  except  when  there  is 
the  amplest  evidence  that  it  is  the  clear,  settled  wish  of 
an  overwhelming  majority  of  the  people.  No  amend- 
ment of  the  Federal  Constitution  can  be  even  proposed 
except  by  the  vote  of  two-thirds  of  both  Houses  of  Con- 
gress, or  of  an  application  from  the  legislatures  of  two- 
thirds  of  the  several  States.  No  amendment  of  the 
Federal  Constitution  can  become  law  unless  it  is  rat- 
ified, in  three-quarters  of  the  States,  by  both  Houses  in 
the  local  legislatures,  or  by  conventions  specially  sum- 
moned for  that  purpose.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  all 
amendments  of  the  Federal  Constitution  have  been  rat- 
ified by  the  State  legislatures  ;  none  of  them  have  been 
submitted  to  conventions. 

Changes  in  the  constitutions  of  the  different  States 
may  be  effected  in  different  ways,  but  never  by  a  sim- 

VOL.  I.  5 


66  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  i. 

pie  majority  of  a  single  legislature.  In  a  few  States,  it 
is  true,  such  a  majority  may  propose  such  an  amend- 
ment ;  but  it  always  requires  ratification,  either  by  a 
popular  vote,  or  by  a  subsequent  legislature,  or  by 
both.  In  most  States  majorities  of  two-thirds  or  three- 
fifths  are  required  for  the  simple  proposal  of  a  constitu- 
tional amendment,  and  in  a  large  number  of  cases  ma- 
jorities of  two-thirds,  or  three-quarters,  or  three-fifths, 
are  required  for  the  ratification.  There  is  usually, 
however,  a  second  method  provided  for  revising  or 
amending  a  State  constitution,  by  means  of  a  conven- 
tion which  is  specially  called  for  this  purpose,  and 
which  proposes  changes  that  must  be  subsequently  rat- 
ified by  a  popular  vote.  ^ 

The  American  Constitution,  indeed,  was  framed  by 
men  who  had  for  the  most  part  the  strongest  sense  of 
the  dangers  of  democracy.  The  school  of  American 
thought  which  was  represented  in  a  great  degree  by  " 
Washington  and  John  Adams,  and  still  more  emphati- 
cally by  Gouverneur  Morris  and  Alexander  Hamilton  ; 
which  inspired  the  Federalist  and  was  embodied  in  the 
Federalist  party,  was  utterly  opposed  to  the  schools  of 
Eoussean,  of  Paine,  and  even  of  Jefferson,  and  it  has 
largely  guided  American  policy  to  the  present  hour.  It 
did  not  prevent  America  from  becoming  a  democracy, 
but  it  framed  a  form  of  government  under  which  the^ 
power  of  the  democracy  was  broken  and  divided,  re- 
stricted to  a  niuch  smaller  sphere,  and  attended  with 
far  less  disastrous  results  than  in  most  European  coun- 
tries. Hamilton,  who  was  probably  the  greatest  polit- 
ical thinker  America  has  produced,  was,  in  the  essen- 


'  A  detailed   account   of  the  quired  in  Foreign  Legislatures 

methods  of  changing  the  State  for  changes  in  the  constitution, 

constitutions  will  be  found  in  a  presented  to  the  House  of  Lords, 

Report   on    the   Majorities    re-  April  1893. 


CH.  1.     AMERICAN  RESTRICTIONS  OP   DEMOCRACY        67 

tials  of  liis  political  thought,  quite  as  conservative  as 
Burke,  and  he  never  concealed  his  preference  for  mon- 
archical institutions.  Democratic  government,  he  be- 
lieved, must  end  in  despotism,  and  be  in  the  meantime 
destructive  to  public  morality  and  to  the  security  of 
private  property.^ 

To  the  eminent  wisdom  of  the  Constitution  of  1787 
much  of  the  success  of  American  democracy  is  due ; 
but  much  also  must  be  attributed  to  the  singularly 
favourable  circumstances  under  which  this  great  ex- 
periment has  been  tried.  A  people  sprung  mainly 
from  an  excellent  British  stock,  and  inheriting  all  the 
best  habits  and  traditions  of  British  constitutional 
government,  found  themselves  in  possession  of  a  terri- 
tory almost  boundless  in  its  extent  and  its  resources, 
and  free  from  the  most  serious  dangers  that  menace 
European  nations.  The  habits  of  local  government, 
the  spirit  of  compromise  and  self-reliance,  the  strong 
moral  basis  which  Puritanism  never  fails  to  establish, 
were  all  there,  and  during  a  great  portion  of  American 
history  emigration  was  attended  with  so  many  hard- 
ships that  few  men  who  did  not  possess  more  than  aver- 
age energy  and  resource  sought  the  American  shore. 
At  the  same  time  a  vast  unpopulated,  undeveloped 
country  opened  limitless  paths  of  adventure,  ambition, 
and  lucrative  labour,  dispersed  many  peccant  humours, 
attracted  and  employed  much  undisciplined  and  vol- 
canic energy  which,  in  other  countries,  would  have 
passed  into  politics  and  bred  grave  troubles  in  the 
State.  The  immense  preponderance  of  industrialism 
in  American  life  is,  indeed,  one  of  its  most  character- 
istic features,  and  its  influence  on  politics  has  been  by 
no  means  wholly  good.     It  has  contributed,  with  other 


'  Van  Buren,  Political  Parties  in  the  United  States^  pp.  80,  83. 


68  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH,  i. 

causes,  to  place  political  life  on  a  lower  plane,  diverting 
from  it  the  best  energies  of  the  country ;  but  it  has 
also  furnished  great  safety-valves  for  discontented 
spirits  and  unregulated  ambitions.  The  country  was 
so  situated  that  it  was  almost  absolutely  self-support- 
ing, and  had  no  foreign  danger  to  fear.  It  might  al- 
most dispense  with  a  foreign  policy.  It  required  no 
considerable  army  or  war  navy ;  and  it  has  been  able 
steadily  to  devote  to  the  maintenance  of  an  excellent 
system  of  national  education  the  sums  which,  in  less 
happily  situated  countries,  are  required  for  the  pur- 
poses of  self-defence.  Although  America  has  expe- 
rienced many  periods  of  acute  commercial  crisis  and  de- 
pression, the  general  level  of  her  well-being  has  been 
unusually  high.  Property  has  been  from  the  first  very 
widely  diffused.  Her  lower  levels  in  their  standard  of 
comfort  more  nearly  resemble  the  middle  than  the 
lowest  class  in  European  countries,  and  the  great 
masses  of  unemployed  pauperism  in  the  large  towns, 
which  form  one  of  the  most  serious  political  and  social 
dangers  of  Europe,  have  been  scarcely  known  in  Amer- 
ica until  the  present  generation. 

The  chief  steps  by  which  the  Government  has  moved 
in  the  direction  of  democracy  may  be  briefly  mentioned. 
Although  the  Constitution  in  most  respects  realised 
the  anticipations  of  its  founders,  their  attempt  to  place 
the  President  outside  the  play  of  party  spirit,  and  to 
make  him  independent  of  democratic  dictation,  sig- 
nally failed.  The  Constitution  provided  that  each 
State  was  to  choose  a  number  of  presidential  electors 
equal  to  its  representatives  in  Congress,  and  that  these 
men  should  be  entrusted  with  the  task  of  electing  the 
President.  In  accordance  with  its  general  policy  on 
all  matters  of  election,  the  Constitution  left  it  to  the 
different  States  to  determine  the  manner  of  election 


CH.  I.     ELECTION  OF  PRESIDENTS   AND   SENATORS      69 

and  the  qualifications  of  these  presidential  electors  ; 
but  it  enacted  that  no  member  of  Congress  and  no 
holder  of  a  Federal  office  should  be  eligible.  In  this 
manner  it  was  hoped  that  the  President  might  be 
elected  by  the  independent  votes  of  a  small  body  of 
worthy  titizens  who  were  not  deeply  plunged  in  party 
politics.  But,  as  the  spirit  of  party  intensified  and  the 
great  party  organisations  attained  their  maturity,  this 
system  wholly  failed.  Presidential  electors  are  still 
elected,  but  they  are  elected  under  a  distinct  pledge 
that  they  will  vote  for  a  particular  candidate.  At 
first  they  were  nearly  everywhere  chosen  on  party 
grounds  by  the  State  legislatures.  Soon  this  process 
appeared  insufficiently  democratic,  and  they  were 
chosen  by  direct  manhood  suffrage,  their  sole  duty  be- 
ing to  nominate  the  candidate  who  had  been  selected 
by  the  party  machine. 

In  the  senatorial  elections  the  principle  of  double 
election  has  proved  somewhat  more  enduring ;  but 
here,  too,  considerable  transformations  have  taken 
place.  The  Senate,  as  is  well  known,  is  composed  of 
two  senators  from  each  State,  chosen  for  six  years  by  the 
State  legislatures,  the  largest  and  the  smallest  States 
being  in  this  respect  on  a  par.  For  a  long  time  the 
mode  of  their  election  varied  greatly.  '  In  some  States 
they  were  chosen  vivd  voce ;  in  others,  by  ballots  ;  in 
some,  by  a  separate  vote  of  each  House  ;  in  others,  by 
both  Houses  meeting  and  voting  as  one  body.'^  By  an 
Act  of  1866  the  method  of  election  has  been  made  uni- 
form, the  senators  being  nominated  by  a  vivd  voce  vote 
in  each  House  ;  and  if  the  result  is  not  attained  in  this 
manner,  by  a  vote  of  the  two  Houses  sitting  together. 
Very  naturally  and  properly,  these  are  party  elections  ; 


'  Ford's  American  Citizen's  Manual.^  i.  13-14. 


70  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  i. 

but  of  late  years  the  senators  appear  to  have  been 
rarely  what  they  were  intended  to  be — the  independent 
choice  of  the  State  legislatures.  '  The  machines/  or, 
in  other  words,  the  organisations  representing  the  rival 
factions  in  each  State,  not  only  return  absolutely  the 
members  of  the  State  legislature,  but  also  designate 
the  rival  candidates  for  the  senatorships ;  and  the 
members  of  the  State  legislature  are  returned  under 
strict  pledges  to  vote  for  these  designated  candidates. 
This  servitude  is  not  as  absolute  or  universal  as  that 
under  which  the  presidential  elections  are  made,  but  it 
has  gone  very  far  to  bring  the  election  of  senators 
under  the  direct  control  of  those  knots  of  wirepullers 
who  rule  all  the  fields  of  American  politics,  and  direct 
and  manage  universal  suffrage.*  In  the  early  stages  of 
its  history,  when  the  States  were  very  few,  the  Senate 
was  a  small  body,  deliberating  in  secret,  and  more  like 
a  Privy  Council  or  a  Cabinet  than  an  Upper  Chamber. 
After  the  first  five  years  of  its  existence  this  system  of 
secrecy  was  abandoned ;  Avith  the  multiplication  of 
States  the  number  of  senators  increased  ;  and  the  Sen- 
ate has  now  the  chief  characteristics  of  a  legislative 
Chamber,  though  it  possesses  certain  additional  powers 
which  are  not  possessed  by  the  corresponding  bodies  in 
Europe. 

The  many  restrictions  on  the  suffrage  by  which  the 
members  of  the  House  of  Kepresentatives  were  elected 
at  the  time  of  the  Revolution  have  nearly  all  passed 
away,  and  America  has  all  but  reached  the  point  of 
simple  manhood  suffrage.  Maryland,  in  the  first  dec- 
ade of  the  nineteenth  century,  led  the  way,"  and  the 
example  was  speedily  followed.     The  management,  re- 


'  See  Bryce's  American  Com-         '  Tocqueville,  Democraiie  en 
monwecdthf  i.  131-32.  Amerique^  i.  91. 


OH.  I.  EXTENSIONS  OF  THE  SUFFRAGE  71 

striction,  and  extension  of  the  suffrage  being  left 
within  the  almost  complete  competence  of  the  several 
States,  form  the  chief  field  in  which  revolutionary 
change  can  be  easily  effected.  The  Federal  Constitu- 
tion only  imposes  two  restrictions  on  the  competency 
of  the  States  to  deal  with  this  subject.  The  first  is, 
that  the  electors  for  representatives  in  each  State  '  shall 
have  the  qualifications  required  for  electors  of  the  most 
numerous  branch  of  the  State  Legislature.'  The  sec- 
ond, which  was  an  amendment  of  the  Constitution  in- 
troduced after  the  Civil  War,  and  carried  at  a  time 
when  the  Southern  States  were  still  deprived  of  their 
normal  political  power,  is  that  no  one  may  be  excluded 
from  the  suffrage  '  on  account  of  race,  colour,  or  pre- 
vious condition  of  servitude.^  The  suffrage,  it  is  true, 
is  not  absolutely  universal.  Besides  the  exclusion  of 
women,  children,  criminals,  insane  persons,  and  un- 
naturalised  immigrants,  some  easy  qualifications  of 
residence  and  registration  are  usually  required ;  but 
property  qualifications  have  almost  wholly  disappeared. 
The  actual  possession  of  projierty  is  no  longer  required 
for  a  voter  in  any  American  election,  with  the  excep- 
tion, it  is  said,  of  the  municipal  elections  in  a  single 
district  of  Rhode  Island.^  A  tax  qualification  existed 
in  1880  in  six  States,  but  it  has  since  then  been  abol- 
ished in  four  of  them.^  Some  States,  however,  still 
exclude  from  the  right  of  voting  those  who  are  so  il- 
literate that  they  are  not  able  to  read,  and  paupers 
who  are  actually  supported  by  the  State.  With  these 
slight  and  partial  exceptions  manhood  suffrage  gener- 
ally prevails. 

1  Hart's   Practical  Essays  on  qualification  is  required  from  an 

American  Government^  1893,  p.  office-holder. 
28.     There   are   still,  however,  '  Ibid, 

some  cases  in  which  a  property 


72  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

As  far  as  I  can  judge,  it  seems  to  have  been  brought 
about  by  much  the  same  means  in  America  as  in  Eu- 
rope. It  has  not  been  in  general  the  result  of  any 
spontaneous  demand,  or  of  any  real  belief  that  it  is 
likely  to  improve  the  Constitution  ;  but  it  has  sprung 
from  a  competition  for  power  and  popularity  between 
rival  factions.  An  extension  of  the  franchise  is,  natur- 
ally, a  popular  cry,  and  each  party  leader  is  therefore 
ready  to  raise  it,  and  anxious  that  his  rival  should  not 
monopolise  it.  It  is  a  policy,  too,  which  requires  no 
constructive  ability,  and  is  so  simple  that  it  lies  well 
within  the  competence  of  the  vulgarest  and  most  ig- 
norant demagogue.  A  party  out  of  office,  and  doubt- 
ful of  its  future  prospects,  naturally  wishes  to  change 
the  character  of  the  electorate,  and  its  leaders  calculate 
that  new  voters  will  vote,  at  all  events  for  the  first 
time,  for  the  party  which  gave  them  their  vote.  We 
are  in  England  perfectly  familiar  with  such  modes  of 
conducting  public  aifairs,  and  it  is  probably  no  exag- 
geration to  say  that  calculations  of  this  kind  have  been 
the  chief  motives  of  all  our  recent  degradations  of  the 
suffrage.  In  one  important  respect  the  Federal  system 
has  tended  to  strengthen  in  America  the  democratic 
movement.  Each  State  naturally  wishes  to  have  as 
much  power  as  possible  in  the  Confederation,  and  an 
amendment  of  the  Constitution  which  was  forced 
through  during  the  temporary  eclipse  of  the  Southern 
States  provides  that  while,  as  a  general  rule,  repre- 
sentatives in  Congress  shall  be  apportioned  among  the 
several  States  according  to  their  populations,  the  basis 
of  representation  in  a  State  shall  be  reduced  in  propor- 
tion to  the  number  of  such  citizens  who  are  excluded 
from  the  suffrage,  '  except  for  participation  in  rebel- 
lion and  other  crime.' 

The  system  of  popular  election  has  extended  through 


CH.  I.  THE   AMERICAN  JUDICIARY  73 

nearly  all  branches  of  American  life.  Perhaps  its 
most  mischievous  application  is  to  the  judicial  posts. 
The  independence  and  dignity,  it  is  true,  of  the  Fed- 
eral judges  are  protected  by  an  article  of  the  Constitu- 
tion. They  can  only  be  appointed  by  the  President 
with  the  consent  of  the  Senate.  They  hold  their  office 
during  good  behaviour  ;  and  they  possess  salaries  which, 
though  small  if  compared  with  those  of  English  judges, 
enable  them  to  support  their  position.  The  Supreme 
Court  is  one  of  the  most  valuable  portions  of  the 
American  Constitution,  and  although  even  its  deci- 
sions have  not  always  escaped  the  suspicion  of  party 
motives,  it  is,  on  the  whole,  probably  inferior  in  ability 
and  character  to  no  other  judicial  body  on  the  globe. 
But  in  the  States  another  system  has  spread  which  has 
both  lowered  and  tainted  the  administration  of  justice. 
As  recently  as  1830  the  judges  in  the  different  States 
owed  their  appointment  to  the  governors,  or  to  the 
State  legislatures,  or  to  a  combination  of  the  two.  In 
1878,  in  no  less  than  twenty-four  States  they  were 
elected  by  a  popular  vote.^  When  it  is  added  that  they 
only  hold  their  office  for  a  few  years,  that  they  are 
capable  of  re-election,  and  that  their  salaries  are  ex- 
tremely small,  it  will  not  appear  extraordinary  that  the 
judicial  body  in  most  of  these  States  should  be  desti- 
tute of  the  moral  dignity  which  attaches  in  England 
to  all  its  branches.  Deliberate  personal  corruption, 
which  for  generations  has  been  unknown  among  Eng- 
lish judges,  has  been  in  some  cases  proved,  and  in 
many  cases  suspected,  in  America,  and  the  belief  that 
in  large  classes  of  cases  judges  will  act  as  mere  parti- 
sans on  the  bench  has  extended  much  further.  The 
prevalence  of  lynch  law,  which  is  so  strangely  discord- 


*  Ford's  American  Citizen's  Manual^  i.  136. 


74  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

ant  with  the  high  civilisation  of  American  life,  is 
largely  due  to  that  distrust  of  justice  in  many  States 
which  is  the  direct,  manifest,  acknowledged  conse- 
quence of  the  system  of  popular  election. 

No  one,  indeed,  who  knows  the  class  of  men  who 
are  wirepullers  in  the  different  American  factions  will 
expect  their  nominees  on  the  bench  to  be  distinguished 
either  for  impartiality  or  integrity.  One  of  the  most 
extraordinary  instances  of  organised  crime  in  modern 
history  is  furnished  by  the  Molly  Maguires  of  Penn- 
sylvania, an  Irish  conspiracy  which,  with  short  inter- 
vals, maintained  a  reign  of  terror  between  1863  and 
1875  in  the  anthracite  coalfields  of  that  State.  The 
innumerable  murders  they  committed  with  impunity, 
and  the  extraordinary  skill  and  daring  of  the  Irish  de- 
tective who  succeeded  in  penetrating  into  their  coun- 
cils and  at  last  bringing  them  to  justice,  form  a  story  of 
most  dramatic  interest ;  but  one  of  the  most  curious 
facts  connected  with  them  is  the  political  influence 
they  appear  to  have  obtained.  They  controlled  town- 
ship affairs  in  several  districts ;  they  applied  to  their 
own  purposes  large  public  funds  ;  they  had  a  great  in- 
fluence in  the  management  of  counties ;  they  were 
courted  by  both  political  parties  ;  and  they  only  failed 
by  a  few  hundred  votes  in  placing  one  of  their  body  on 
the  judicial  bench. ^  I  can  here  hardly  do  better  than 
quote  the  language  of  Mr.  Bryce,  who,  writing  with 
ample  knowledge  of  the  subject,  is  evidently  desirous  of 
minimising  as  much  as  possible  the  importance  of  the 
facts  which  he  honestly  but  reluctantly  relates. 

'  In  a  few  States,'  he  writes,  '  perhaps  six  or  seven  in 
all,  suspicion  has  at  one  time  or  another,  within  the 


» See   that   very   curious   book,  Dewees's  The  Molly  Maguires 
(Philadelphia,  1877),  pp.  33,  92-93,  109,  221-29,  296. 


CH.  I.  JUDICIAL  CORRUPTION  75 

last  twenty  years,  attached  to  one  or  more  of  the  supe- 
rior judges.  Sometimes  these  suspicions  may  have 
been  ill-founded.  But  though  I  know  of  only  one 
case  in  which  they  have  been  substantiated,  there  can 
be  little  doubt  that  in  several  instances  improprieties 
have  been  committed.  The  judge  may  not  have  taken 
a  bribe,  but  he  has  perverted  justice  at  the  instance  of 
some  person  or  persons  who  either  gave  him  a  consid- 
eration or  exercised  an  undue  influence  over  him.  .  .  . 
I  have  never  heard  of  a  State  in  which  more  than  two 
or  three  judges  were  the  object  of  distrust  at  the  same 
time.  In  one  State,  viz.  New  York,  in  1869-71  there 
were  flagrant  scandals,  which  led  to  the  disappearance 
of  three  justices  of  the  superior  court  who  had  unques- 
tionably both  sold  and  denied  justice.  The  Tweed 
ring,  when  engaged  in  plundering  the  city  treasury, 
found  it  convenient  to  have  in  the  seat  of  justice  ac- 
complices who  might  check  inquiry  into  their  mis- 
deeds. This  the  system  of  popular  election  for  very 
short  terms  enabled  them  to  do,  and  men  were  accord- 
ingly placed  on  the  bench  whom  one  might  rather 
have  expected  to  see  in  the  dock — bar-room  loafers, 
broken  -  down  attorneys,  needy  adventurers  —  whose 
want  of  character  made  them  absolutely  dependent  on 
these  patrons.  .  .  .  They  did  not  regard  social  cen- 
sure, for  they  were  already  excluded  from  decent  soci- 
ety ;  impeachment  had  no  terrors  for  them,  since  the 
State  legislatures,  as  well  as  the  executive  machinery 
of  the  city,  was  in  the  hands  of  their  masters.  .  .  . 
To  what  precise  point  of  infamy  they  descended  I  can- 
not attempt,  among  so  many  discordant  stories  and 
rumours,  to  determine.  It  is,  however,  beyond  a 
doubt  that  they  made  orders  in  defiance  of  the  plainest 
rules  of  practice ;  issued  in  rum  -  shops  injunctions 
which  they  had  not  even  read  over  ;  appointed  notori- 


76  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

ous  vagabonds  receivers  of  valuable  property ;  turned 
over  important  cases  to  a  friend  of  their  own  stamp, 
and  gave  whatever  decision  he  suggested.  ...  A 
system  of  client  robbery  sprang  up,  by  which  each 
judge  enriched  the  knot  of  disreputable  lawyers  who 
surrounded  him.  He  referred  cases  to  them,  granted 
them  monstrous  allowances  in  the  name  of  costs,  gave 
them  receiverships  with  a  large  percentage,  and  so 
forth,  they  in  turn  either  sharing  the  booty  with  him, 
or  undertaking  to  do  the  same  for  him  when  he  should 
have  descended  to  the  Bar  and  they  have  climbed  to 
the  Bench.  Nor  is  there  any  doubt  that  criminals 
who  had  any  claim  on  their  party  often  managed  to 
elude  punishment  .  .  .  for  governor,  judge,  attor- 
ney, officials,  and  police,  were  all  of  them  party  nomi- 
nees. ...  In  the  instance  which  made  much  noise 
in  Europe — that  of  the  Erie  Railroad  suits — there 
was  no  need  to  give  bribes.  The  gang  of  thieves  who 
had  gained  control  of  the  line  and  were  '  watering '  the 
stock  were  leagued  with  the  gang  of  thieves  who  ruled 
the  city  and  nominated  the  judges,  and  nobody  doubts 
that  the  monstrous  decisions  in  these  suits  were  ob- 
tained by  the  influence  of  the  Tammany  leaders  over 
their  judicial  minions.'^ 

Such  is  the  state  of  things  which  flourished  a  few 
years  ago  in  full  exuberance  in  the  capital  of  the  great 
democracy  of  the  West,  and  among  a  people  who  claim 
to  be  in  the  front  rank  of  civilisation,  and  to  have 
furnished  the  supreme  pattern  of  the  democracies  of 
the  future.  Mr.  Bryce  does  all  that  is  in  his  power  to 
soften  the  picture.  He  believes  that  the  corrupt 
judges  are  only  a  small  minority  in  a  few  States,  and 
that  there  is  no  evidence  that  even   the  New  York 


I  Bryce's  American  Commonwealth,  iii.  394-99. 


CH.  I.  JUDICIAL  CORRUPTION  77 

judges,  in  ordinary  commercial  cases,  where  no  politi- 
cal interest  came  into  play,  and  where  the  influence  of 
particular  persons  was  not  exerted,  decided  unjustly  or 
*  took  direct  money  bribes  from  one  of  the  parties.' 
He  also  takes  a  long  historical  flight  over  nearly  three 
thousand  years  for  the  purpose  of  collecting  parallel 
enormities.  Hesiod  complained  of  kings  who  received 
gifts  to  influence  their  decisions.  Felix  expected 
money  for  releasing  St.  Paul.  Among  the  great  des- 
potisms of  the  East  judicial  corruption  has  always 
been  common.  In  a  single  instance  since  the  Eevolu- 
tion  an  English  chancellor  was  found  to  have  taken 
bribes  ;  and  in  some  of  the  more  backward  countries  of 
Europe  '  the  judges,  except,  perhaps,  those  of  the 
highest  court,  are  not  assumed  by  general  opinion  to 
be  above  suspicion.' 

Such  arguments  may  be  left  to  stand  on  their  own 
merits.  Of  all  the  many  functions  which  government 
is  expected  to  discharge,  the  most  important  to  the 
happiness  of  mankind  is  that  of  securing  equal  justice 
between  man  and  man.  No  statesmen  were  more  con- 
scious of  this  truth  than  the  great  men  who  framed  the 
Constitution  of  the  United  States ;  and,  under  the 
conditions  of  their  time,  they  probably  provided  for  it 
almost  as  perfectly  as  human  prescience  could  have 
done.  It  would  be  a  grave  injustice  to  the  American 
people  to  suppose  that  they  were  not  in  general  a  law- 
abiding  people  :  they  have  more  than  once  suppressed 
disorder  in  the  States  with  an  unflinching  energy  and  a 
truly  merciful  promptness  of  severity  which  English 
Administrations  might  well  imitate ;  and  over  a  great 
part  of  the  States  honest  justice  is  undoubtedly  admin- 
istered. But  no  one,  I  think,  can  follow  American 
history  without  perceiving  how  frequently  and  seri- 
ously the  democratic  principle  has  undermined  this 


78  DEMOCRACY  AND  UBERTY  ch.  i. 

first  condition  of  true  freedom  and  progress.  As  Mill 
justly  says,  the  tyranny  of  the  majority  is  not  only 
shown  in  tyrannical  laws.  Sometimes  it  is  shown  in 
an  assumed  power  to  dispense  with  all  laws  which  run 
counter  to  the  popular  opinion  of  the  hour.  Some- 
times it  appears  in  corrupt,  tainted,  partial  adminis- 
tration of  existing  laws.  Tyranny  seldom  assumes  a 
more  odious  form  than  when  judges,  juries,  and  execu- 
tives are  alike  the  tools  of  a  faction  or  a  mob. 

Closely  connected  with  this  great  abuse  has  been  the 
system  of  treating  all  the  smaller  posts  and  offices, 
both  under  the  Federal  and  the  State  governments,  as 
rewards  for  party  services,  and  changing  the  occu- 
pants with  each  change  of  political  power.  This  is 
the  well-known  ^spoils  system,'  and  it  has  permeated 
and  corrupted  American  public  life  to  its  very  roots. 
It  did  not  exist  in  the  early  days  of  the  Kepublic. 
Washington,  in  the  eight  years  of  his  presidency,  only 
removed  nine  officials,  and  all  for  definite  causes. 
John  Adams  made  the  same  number  of  changes.  Jef- 
ferson made  thirty-nine ;  and  the  three  Presidents 
who  followed  only  removed  sixteen  in  the  space  of 
twenty  years.  John  Quincy  Adams,  the  last  of  this 
line  of  Presidents,  was  in  this  respect  scrupulously  just. 
'  As  he  was  about  the  last  President,'  writes  Mr.  Gold- 
win  Smith,  '  chosen  for  merit,  not  for  availability,  so 
he  was  about  the  last  whose  only  rule  was  not  party,  but 
the  public  service.  So  strictly  did  he  preserve  the  prin- 
ciple of  permanency  and  purity  in  the  Civil  Service,  that 
he  refused  to  dismiss  from  office  a  Postmaster- General 
whom  he  knew  to  be  intriguing  against  him.' 

The  great  evil  which  was  impending  was  largely  pre- 
pared by  an  Act  of  1820,  which  limited  the  term  of 
office  of  a  vast  number  of  subordinate  officials  to  four 
years,  and  at  the  same  time  made  them  removable  at 


CH.  I.  THE  SPOILS  SYSTEM  79 

pleasure.  The  modern  system  of  making  all  post* 
under  the  Government,  however  unconnected  with 
politics,  rewards  for  party  services  was  organised,  in 
1829,  by  Andrew  Jackson.  This  President  may  be 
said  to  have  completed  the  work  of  making  the  Amer- 
ican Republic  a  pure  democracy,  which  Jefferson  had 
begun.  His  statue  stands  in  front  of  the  White  House 
at  Washington  as  one  of  the  great  men  of  America, 
and  he  assuredly  deserves  to  be  remembered  as  the 
founder  of  the  most  stupendous  system  of  political  cor- 
ruption in  modern  history.  It  began  on  a  compar- 
atively small  scale.  About  500  postmasters  were  at 
once  removed  to  make  room  for  partisans,  and  all  the 
more  active  partisans,  including,  it  is  said,  fifty  or 
sixty  leading  newspaper  writers,  received  places,  the 
propagation-  of  Government  views  through  the  press 
having  now  become,  according  to  Webster,  '  the  main 
administrative  duty.'  In  a  short  time  the  dismissals 
under  this  President  numbered  about  2,000,^ 

This  was  the  beginning  of  a  system  which  has  spread 
like  a  leprosy  over  all  political  life,  and  to  which  there 
is,  I  believe,  no  adequate  parallel  in  history.  It  is  not 
easy  to  obtain  exact  statistics  about  the  extent  to  which 
it  has  been  practised.  A  very  eminent  American 
writer,  who  is  distinguished  not  only  for  his  high  char- 
acter, but  also  for  his  scrupulous  accuracy  of  state- 
ment and  research,  and  who  has  himself  taken  a  prom- 
inent part  in  the  work  of  Civil  Service  reform,  mentions 
that  a  few  years  ago  '  the  army  of  Federal  oflficials  was 
roughly  estimated  at  nearly  125,000,  drawing  annual 
salaries  amounting  to  about  eighty  millions  of  dollars.' 
He  notices  that  in  the  two  years  preceding  1887,  out 


»  Goldwin  Smitli,  The  United  States,  pp.  192-203 ;  Ford's  Amer- 
ican Citizen's  Manual,  i.  138-40. 


80  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch,  i. 

of  2,359  post-offices  known  as  presidential,  about  2,000 
had  been  changed,  and  that  out  of  62,699  lower  post- 
office  clerks,  about  40,000  had  been  changed.  100  out 
of  111  collectors  of  Customs,  all  the  surveyors  of  Cus- 
toms, all  the  surveyors-general,  all  the  post-office  in- 
spectors-in-charge  ;  11  out  of  13  superintendents  of 
mints  ;  84  out  of  85  collectors  of  internal  revenue  ;  65 
out  of  70  district  attorneys  ;  8  out  of  11  inspectors  of 
steam-vessels  ;  16  out  of  18  pension  agents  ;  190  out  of 
224  local  land  officers  were  changed  in  the  space  of  two 
years,  and  under  a  President  who  had  come  to  office  as 
a  supporter  of  Civil  Service  reform.  These  are  but  a 
few  illustrations  out  of  many  of  the  manner  in  which, 
in  the  words  of  the  writer  I  am  citing,  '  office  is  made 
the  coin  in  which  to  pay  political  debts  and  gain  the 
services  of  political  condottieri,'  and  he  estimates  that 
this  President  had  '  dismissed  nearly  100,000  public 
servants  for  political  ends.'  ^ 

Another  very  competent  American  author,  who  has 
written  the  best  short  account  of  American  govern- 
ment with  which  I  am  acquainted,  observes  that  '  in 
the  Federal  Administration  alone  there  are  nearly  90,- 
000  office-holders  who  have  no  voice  in  the  administra- 
tion ;  but  as  chiefs  of  bureaux  and  clerks  are  necessary 
for  the  transaction  of  business,  and  as  new  territory 
is  opened  up,  the  number  is  constantly  increasing.' 
These  appointments  are  systematically  filled  up,  not 
upon  the  ground  of  administrative  capacity,  but  '  on 
the  basis  of  nomination,  influence,  and  official  favour.' 
The  practice  of  constant  removals  has,  since  Jackson's 
time,  '  been  followed  by  all  parties  in  all  elections. 


'  See    a  remarkable  essay  on      Reprinted    frotn    the    Indepen- 
Mr.    Cleveland  and   Civil  Ser-      dent,  October  18,  1888. 
vice  Reform,  by  Henry  C.  Lea. 


CH.  1.  THE  SPOILS  SYSTEM  81 

great  and  small,  national  and  local/  A  great  part  of 
this  patronage  is  in  the  hands  of  senators  and  represen- 
tatives, who  claim  as  a  right  the  power  of  advising  the 
President  in  these  appointments  ;  who  '  dictate  appoint- 
ments as  if  the  Federal  patronage  in  their  State  or  dis- 
trict was  their  private  property,^  and  who  systemati- 
cally nse  it  to  build  up  political  influence  and  reward 
political  services. 

And  not  only  does  this  system  turn  into  ardent  poli- 
ticians countless  officials  whose  duties  should  place 
them  as  far  as  possible  out  of  the  domain  of  party  poli- 
tics ;  not  only  does  it  furnish  the  staff  of  the  great 
party  organisations,  and  make  the  desire  of  obtaining 
and  retaining  office  the  main  motive  in  all  party  con- 
flicts— it  also  gives  rise  to  the  system  of  political  assess- 
ments, '  made  on  office-holders  of  all  grades,  by  a  per- 
fectly irresponsible  committee,  to  be  expended  in 
furthering  the  objects  of  the  party.  .  .  .  Although 
nominally  such  contributions  to  the  campaign  fund 
are  made  '^  voluntarily  "  by  the  office-holders,  yet  their 
true  nature  is  shown  by  many  circumstances.  Thus, 
in  making  its  application,  the  committee  fixes  the 
amount  which  each  man  is  to  pay.  In  1882,  2  per 
cent,  of  the  annual  salary  was  required,  and  was  levied 
on  all,  from  the  chiefs  of  bureaux  to  the  lowest  labourer 
in  the  Government  navy  yards,  and  also  levied  alike  on 
Eepublicans  and  Democrats.  Moreover,  in  case  the 
call  was  not  responded  to,  employes  of  the  committee 
went  among  the  departments  and  made  personal  appli- 
cation to  each  delinquent.  By  experience  the  clerk 
knows  that  he  must  pay  or  be  discharged,  a  fact  which 
still  more  strongly  brings  out  the  "  voluntary  "  nature 
of  the  contribution.  .  .  .  The  committee  may  ex- 
pend the  fund  thus  collected  as  it  sees  fit,  and  need 
render  an  account  of  such  expenditure  to  no  man. 

VOL.  I.  6 


82  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

Truth  compels  us  to  say  that  it  forms  a  "  corruption 
fund "  for  influencing  elections  ;  and  the  manner  of 
expending  it  is  as  vicious  and  debauching  to  the  public 
service  as  is  tlie  manner  of  collecting  it.  This  matter 
has  also  been  made  the  subject  of  legislation,  but  with- 
out any  remedy  being  afforded/  ' 

A  third  very  competent  American  writer  on  the  Con- 
stitution reminds  us  that,  owing  to  the  increased  debt 
and  taxation  growing  out  of  the  Civil  AVar,  the  number 
of  office-holders  in  the  United  States  quadrupled  in  the 
period  from  1860  to  1870,  and  that  these  appointments 
are  systematically  made  through  mere  party  motives, 
and  irrespective  of  the  capacity  of  the  claimant.  '  This 
system,'  he  continues,  '  not  only  fills  the  public  offices  of 
the  United  States  Avith  inefficient  and  corrupt  officials 
in  high  station,  and  keeps  out  of  political  life  the  capa- 
ble men  who  are  disinclined  to  perform  party  work  as 
a  condition  precedent  to  accession  to  office,  but  it  also 
created  the  same  system  under  those  officials  as  to  all 
their  subordinates.  .  .  .  They  were  to  a  very  large 
degree,  and  still  are,  regularly  assessed  to  pay  the  polit- 
ical expenses  of  a  campaign.  Millions  of  dollars  are 
thus  raised  from  office-holders  in  the  United  States  at 
every  recurring  Presidential  election,  or  even  local  elec- 
tion. .  .  .  Such  assessments  were  paid  because  they 
knew  that  their  official  existence  would  be  terminated 
in  the  event  of  a  change  of  Administration,  under  the 


'  Ford's  American  Citizen's  McGuiness's  pig  proved  so  pro- 
Manual^  i.  130-41.  Mr.  Lea  ductive  ia  the  New  York  Cus- 
writes  :  '  It  is  in  vain  that  the  torn  House,  when  an  office  is 
PendletonAct  prohibits  the  levy-  ostentatiously  opened  in  Wash- 
ing of  assessments  on  office-  ington,  and  every  clerk  is  per- 
holders,  when  circulars  from  sonally  notified  that  it  is  ready 
democratic  committees  are  as  to  receive  contributions '  (Mr. 
thick  as  leaves  in  Vallombrosa,  Cleveland  and  Civil  Service  Re 
when  the  raffle  for  the  Widow  form,  p.  4). 


CH.  I.  THE  SPOILS  SYSTEM  83 

domination  of  an  adverse  party.  .  .  .  The  evil  of 
the  abominable  ''spoils"  system  in  the  United  States 
is  not  so  much  the  incompetency  of  the  officers — an 
American's  adaptiveness  enables  him  quickly  to  learn 
the  routine  duties  of  an  office — nor  in  the  waste  of 
public  money  (because  in  a  community  so  rich  in  pro- 
ductive power  as  that  of  the  United  States  the  amount 
which  peculation  can  take  from  it  is  a  burden  easy  to 
be  borne) — but  the  main  evil  is  that  the  spoils  system 
demoralises  both  parties,  and  makes  contests  which 
should  be  for  principle  mainly  for  plunder/  Under  its 
influence,  this  writer  adds,  the  quadrennial  presiden- 
tial elections  have  become  'mere  scrambles  for  office/' 
It  will  be  observed  that  this  system  is  very  distinctly 
a  product  of  democracy.  It  is  called  by  its  supporters 
the  rotation  of  offices.  It  is  defended  on  the  ground 
that,  by  short  tenures  and  constant  removals,  it  opens 
the  ranks  of  official  life  to  the  greatest  possible  number 
of  the  people  ;  and  although,  in  the  words  of  Mr. 
Bryce,  '  nobody  supposes  that  merit  has  anything  to 
do  with  promotion,  or  believes  the  pretext  alleged  for 
an  appointment,"  ^  its  democratic  character  and  its  ap- 
peal to  the  self-interest  of  vast  multitudes  make  it 
popular.  It  is  also,  as  Mr.  Bryce  notices,  a  main  ele- 
ment in  that  system  of  '  machine  '-made  politics  which, 
in  America,  so  successfully  excludes  the  more  respect- 
able class  from  political  life,  and  throws  its  whole  man- 
agement into  the  hands  of  the  professional  politicians. 
I  can  here  only  refer  my  readers  to  the  instructive 
chapters  in  which  Mr.  Bryce  has  described  the  work- 
ing of  the  '  machine.'     He  has  shown  how  the  extreme 


'  Sterne's  United  States  Con-         ^  American     Commonweatth^ 
stitution  and  History^  pp.  227-      ii.  488. 
81. 


84  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CB.  i. 

elaboration  and  multiplication  of  committees  and  or- 
ganisations for  the  purpose  of  accumulating  and 
directing  votes,  as  well  as  the  enormous  number  of 
local  elections  to  office  which  are  conducted  on  party 
lines,  and  which  all  add  to  or  subtract  from  party 
strength,  turn  the  politics  of  a  State  into  a  business  so 
absorbing  that  no  one  can  expect  to  have  much  influ- 
ence in  it  unless  he  makes  it  a  main  business  of  his 
life.  At  the  same  time,  the  vast  number  of  men  who 
hold  office,  and  the  still  larger  number  who  are  aspir- 
ing to  office,  furnish  those  organisations  with  innumer- 
able agents,  who  work  for  them  as  men  work  for  their 
livelihood,  while  the  tribute  levied  upon  officials  sup- 
plies an  ample  fund  for  corruption.  '  The  great  and 
growing  volume  of  political  work  to  be  done  in  man- 
aging primaries,  conventions,  and  elections  for  the 
city,  State  and  national  Government  .  .  .  which 
the  advance  of  democratic  sentiment  and  the  needs  of 
party  warfare  evolved  from  1820  down  to  about  1850, 
needed  men  who  should  give  to  it  constant  and  undi- 
vided attention.  These  men  the  plan  of  rotation  in 
office  provided.  Persons  who  had  nothing  to  gain  for 
themselves  would  soon  have  tired  of  the  work.  .  .  . 
Those,  however,  whose  bread  and  butter  depend  on 
their  party  may  be  trusted  to  work  for  their  party,  to 
enlist  recruits,  look  after  the  organisation,  play  elec- 
tioneering tricks  from  which  ordinary  party  spirit 
might  recoil.  The  class  of  professional  politicians  was, 
therefore,  the  first  crop  which  the  spoils  system — the 
system  of  using  public  offices  as  private  plunder — bore. 
...  It  is  these  spoilsmen  who  have  depraved  and 
distorted  the  mechanism  of  politics.  It  is  they  who 
pack  the  primaries  and  run  the  conventions,  so  as  to 
destroy  the  freedom  of  popular  choice ;  they  who  con- 
trive and  execute  the  election  frauds  which  disgrace 


OH.  I.  CORRUPTION  OF  PARTY  POLITICS  85 

some  States  and  cities,  repeating  and  ballot-stuffing, 
obstruction  of  the  polls,  and  fraudulent  countings-in. 
.  .  .  The  Civil  Service  is  not  in  America,  and  can- 
not under  the  system  of  rotation  become,  a  career. 
Place-hunting  is  the  career ;  and  an  office  is  not  a 
public  trust,  but  a  means  of  requiting  party  services, 
and  also,  under  the  method  of  assessments  previously 
described,  a  source  whence  party  funds  may  be  raised 
for  election  purposes/*  'What  characterises '  Amer- 
ican politicians,  '  as  compared  with  the  corresponding 
class  in  Europe,  is  that  their  whole  time  is  more  fre- 
quently given  to  political  work ;  that  most  of  them 
draw  an  income  from  politics,  and  the  rest  hope  to  do 
so/ 2 

One  very  natural  result  is,  that  while  there  is  no 
country  in  the  world  in  which  great  party  contests  are 
fought  with  more  energy  and  tenacity  than  in  America, 
there  is  no  country  in  the  world  in  which  the  motives 
that  inspire  them  are  more  purely  or  more  abjectly 
sordid.  Great  unselfish  causes  are,  no  doubt,  advocated 
by  groups  of  politicians  in  America,  as  elsewhere,  but 
these  lie  usually  within  the  limits  of  parties,  and  are 
not  the  true  causes  of  party  division.  In  other  coun- 
tries it  is  not  so.  Selfish  and  corrupt  motives  no  doubt 
abound  ;  but  in  the  contest  between  Liberals  and  Con- 
servatives, Unionists  and  Eadicals,  in  England  ;  in  the 
great  dynastic  quarrels,  or  quarrels  between  monarchy 
and  republicanism,  between  clericalism  and  anti-cleri- 
calism, between  labour  and  capital,  that  divide  parties 
on  the  Continent,  there  is  always  some  real  principle  at 
issue,  some  powerful  element  of  unselfish  enthusiasm. 
In  America  this  does  not  appear  to  be  the  case.  This  is 
partly,  no  doubt,  due  to  the  absence  of  great  questions 


>  Bryce,  ii.  485-89.  »  Ibid.  399. 


86  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

in  a  conntry  which  has  few  serious  relations  with 
other  nations,  which  has  almost  wholly  disconnected 
the  interests  of  Churches  and  religion  from  national 
politics,  and  in  which  the  Constitution  opposes  insuper- 
able obstacles  to  organic  change.  But  it  is  still  more 
due  to  the  enormous  preponderance  in  politics  of  selfish 
interests,  and  of  classes  who  are  animated  by  such  in- 
terests. I  have  quoted  on  this  subject  the  emphatic 
language  of  Mr.  Sterne.  That  of  Mr.  Bryce  is  very 
similar.  '  Politics/  he  says,  '  has  now  become  a  gainful 
profession,  like  advocacy,  stock-broking,  the  drygoods 
trade,  or  the  getting  up  of  companies.  People  go  into 
it  to  live  by  it,  primarily  for  the  sake  of  the  salaries 
attached  to  the  places  they  count  on  getting  ;  second- 
arily, in  view  of  the  opportunities  it  affords  of  making 
incidental,  and  sometimes  illegitimate,  gains. '  '  Ee- 
publicans  and  Democrats  have  certainly  war-cries,  or- 
ganisations, interests  enlisted  in  their  support.  But 
those  interests  are  in  the  main  the  interests  of  getting 
or  keeping  the  patronage  of  the  Government.  Tenets 
and  policies,  points  of  political  doctrine  and  points  of 
political  practice,  have  all  but  vanished.  They  have 
not  been  thrown  away,  but  have  been  stripped  away  by 
time  and  the  progress  of  events  fulfilling  some  policies, 
blotting  out  others.  All  has  been  lost  except  office  or 
the  hope  of  it.'  ^ 

There  is  scarcely  any  subject  on  which  the  best  men 
in  America  are  so  fully  agreed  as  upon  the  absolute  ne- 
cessity of  putting  an  end  to  this  spoils  system,  if  Amer- 
ican public  life  is  ever  to  be  purified  from  corruption. 
Unfortunately,  this  system  appeals  to  so  many  interests 
and  such  strong  passions,  and  has  been  so  thoroughly 
incorporated  in  the  normal  working  of  both  of  the 


Bryce,  ii.  345,  392. 


«H.  I.  CIVIL  SERVICE   REFORM  87 

great  parties,  that  the  task  of  combating  it  is  enor- 
mously difficult,  and  few  active  politicians  have  entered 
into  it  with  real  earnestness.  There  have  been  frequent 
efforts  in  this  direction.  There  was  an  abortive  at- 
tempt of  Calhoun,  in  1839,  to  prevent  a  large  class 
of  Government  officers  from  interfering  in  elections. 
There  were  Acts  carried  in  1853  and  1855  requiring 
examinations  for  some  departments  of  the  Civil  Ser- 
vice at  Washington,  and  another  Act  was  carried  in 
1871 ;  but  they  appear  to  have  been  little  more  than  a 
dead -letter.'  Though  the  subject  was  frequently  be- 
fore Congress,  no  really  efficacious  step  was  taken  till 
the  Act  called  the  Pendleton  Act,  which  was  carried 
in  1883,  and  which  applied  to  about  15,000  officials 
out  of  about  125,000.  It  introduced  into  some  depart- 
ments the  system  of  competitive  examinations,  gave 
some  real  fixity  of  tenure,  and  attempted,  though  ap- 
parently with  little  or  no  success,  to  check  the  system 
of  assessment  for  political  purposes. 

The  system  of  competitive  examinations  has  since 
then  been  in  some  degree  extended.  One  of  the  latest 
writers  on  American  politics  says  that  about  43,800 
servants  of  the  Government,  out  of  nearly  180,000 
persons  employed  in  all  civil  capacities  by  the  United 
States,  are  now  withdrawn  from  the  spoils  system,  but 
he  doubts  much  whether  democratic  opinion  is,  on  the 
whole,  in  favour  of  an  abandonment  of  the  system  of 
rotation  and  political  appointment.  ^  A  considerable 
movement  to  abolish  it  has,  however,  been  set  on  foot, 
and  the  reformers,  who  are  known  under  the  name  of 
Mugwumps,  are  said  to  have  acquired  some  real  influ- 
ence.     In  the  opinion  of  Mr.  Gilman,   the  indepen- 


'  Ford,  i.  141-42 ;  Bryce,  ii.  '  Hart's  Essays  on  American 

490.  Government,  pp.  82,  83,  91-96 


88  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  i, 

dent  element,  which  is  '  opposed  to  any  increase  of  the 
Civil  Service  of  the  State  or  the  nation  until  a  great 
reform  has  been  accomplished,  beyond  dispute,  in  the 
distribution   of    the   multitude  of  minor  offices,'  is, 

*  happily,  coming  to  hold  more  and  more  the  balance 
of  power/  'There  is,'  he  adds,  'a  powerful  and 
growing  tendency  to  take  out  of  politics  the  public 
charities,  the  free  schools,  the  public  libraries,  the 
public  parks,  and  numerous  other  features  of  munici- 
pal administration.'  To  take  an  office  '  out  of  politics,' 
Mr.  Oilman  very  characteristically  e;xplains,  means  *  to 
take  it  out  of  corruption  into  honesty,'  and  to  treat  it 

*  as  a  public  trust  for  the  benefit  of  the  whole  people.' ' 

The  growth  of  the  number  of  minor  officials,  which 
is  a  natural  consequence  of  the  spoils  system,  and  also 
of  the  prevailing  tendency  to  extend  the  functions  of 
government,  is  exciting  serious  alarm.  A  recent  Civil 
Service  Commission  gives  the  number  of  '  employees ' 
in  the  postal  service  of  the  United  States,  in  1891,  as 
112,800;  the  number  of  other  '  employees '  as  70,688. 
There  has  been,  the  Commission  says,  '  a  very  startling 
growth  in  the  number  of  Grovernment  employees,  com- 
pared with  the  growth  of  population.  .  .  .  The  growth 
of  a  service  which  can  be  used  for  political  ends  is  a 
rapidly  increasing  menace  to  republican  government.' 
Mr.  Oilman  quotes  the  statement  of  Mr.  Curtis,  that 
the  first  object  of  every  reformer  should  be  '  to  restrict 
still  further  the  executive  power  as  exercised  by  party.' 
In  America,  that  statesman  says,  '  the  superstition  of 
Divine  right  has  passed  from  the  king  to  the  party,' 
and  the  belief  that  it  can  do  no  wrong  '  has  become  the 
practical  faith  of  great  multitudes.'  'It  makes  the 
whole  Civil  Service  a  drilled  and  disciplined  army,  whose 


'  Gilman's  Socialism  and  the  American  Spirit  (1893),  p.  178. 


CH.  I.  MULTIPLICATION  OF  OFFICES  89 

living  depends  upon  carrying  elections  at  any  cost  for 
the  party  which  controls  it/ ' 

On  the  whole,  as  far  as  a  stranger  can  judge,  there  seem 
to  be  in  this  field  real  signs  of  improvement,  although 
they  may  not  be  very  considerable  or  decisive.  It  must 
be  remembered  that  the  period  immediately  following 
the  War  was  one  peculiarly  fitted  for  the  growth  of 
corruption.  The  sudden  and  enormous  increase  of 
debt,  the  corresponding  multiplication  of  officials,  the 
paralysis  of  political  life  in  a  great  part  of  the  country, 
and  the  many  elements  of  social,  industrial,  and  polit- 
ical anarchy  that  still  prevailed,  all  made  the  task  of 
professional  politicians  easy  and  lucrative.  One  great 
improvement  which  has  taken  place,  and  which  has 
spread  very  swiftly  over  the  United  States,  has  been  an 
alteration  in  the  ballot  system.  In  my  own  opinion, 
the  ballot,  in  any  country  where  politics  rest  on  a 
really  sound  and  independent  basis,  is  essentially  an 
evil.  Power  in  politics  should  never  be  dissociated 
from  responsibility,  and  the  object  of  the  ballot  is  to 
make  the  elector  absolutely  irresponsible.  It  obscures 
the  moral  weight  of  an  election,  by  making  it  impossi- 
ble to  estimate  the  real  force  of  opinion,  knowledge, 
and  character  that  is  thrown  on  either  side.  It  saps 
the  spirit  of  independence  and  uprightness,  and  it  gives 
great  facilities  for  deception  and  fraud,  for  the  play  of 
mercenary,  sordid,  and  malignant  motives,  and  for  the 
great  political  evil  of  sacerdotal  influence.  But  the 
task  of  a  statesman  is,  usually,  to  select  the  best  alter- 
native, and,  where  intimidation  or  corruption  is  very 
rife,  the  evils  produced  by  secret  voting  may  be  less 
serious  than  those  which  it  prevents. 

In  America,  the  system  of  ballot  secured  no  real 


^Gilman's  Socialism  and  the  American  Spirit  (1893),  pp.  310-11. 


90  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

secrecy,  and  seemed,  and  indeed  probably  was,  specially 
intended  to  throw  all  electoral  power  into  the  hands  of 
*  the  machine.'  The -agents  of  each  organisation  were 
suffered  to  stand  at  the  poll  and  furnish  the  elector 
with  ballot-papers  inscribed  with  the  names  of  their 
party  candidates,  and  watchful  eyes  followed  him  till 
he  placed  the  paper  in  the  ballot-box.  He  might,  it  is 
true,  change  the  name  on  the  paper,  but  in  the  im- 
mense majority  of  cases  the  votes  of  the  electors  were 
dictated  by  and  known  to  the  party  agent.  ^  A  power- 
ful movement,  hi)wever,  grew  up,  chiefly  in  1890  and 
1891,  for  changing  this  system  and  introducing  what 
is  called  the  Australian  ballot.  Its  principal  feature  is 
that  the  State  has  taken  the  manufacture  and  distribu- 
tion of  ballot-papers  out  of  the  hands  of  the  different 
parties,  and  secures  to  the  voter  absolute  secrecy  and 
freedom  from  interference  at  the  polling-booths.  In 
five  years  the  Australian  ballot  has  been  adopted  in 
thirty-five  States,  and  it  appears  to  have  done  some- 
thing to  diminish  the  power  of  the  caucus  organisation 
and  to  check  the  various  fraudulent  practices  which 
had  been  common  at  elections.^ 

One  great  cause  of  the  degradation  of  American  pol- 
itics has  been  the  extreme  facility  with  which  votes 
have  been  given  to  ignorant  immigrants,  who  had  no 
experience  in  public  life  and  no  real  interest  in  the 
well-being  of  the  country.  Most  of  the  more  intelli- 
gent American  observers  have  agreed  that  the  common 
schools,  and  the  high  level  of  knowledge  and  intelli- 
gence they  secure,  have  been  among  the  most  impor- 


'  See  Bryce,  ii.    pp.    492-95.  "Gilman's  Socialism  and  the 

There  were  some  varieties,  how-  American  Spirit,  pp.   169-70  ; 

ever,  in  the  system  in  the  differ-  Political      Science      Quarterly 

ent   States.      (Ford,   American  (New  York),  1891,  p.  386. 
Citizen's  Manual,  i.  103-8.) 


CH.  I.  THE  KNOW-NOTHINGS  91 

tant  conditions  of  the  healthy  working  of  their  insti- 
tutions. ^  For  a  long  period  the  constituent  bodies  in 
America  were  certainly  among  the  best  educated  in  the 
world ;  but  since  the  torrent  of  ignorant  immigrants 
and  negro  voters  has  poured  into  them  they  can  have 
no  pretensions  to  this  position. 

In  1798,  when  revolutionary  elements  were  very 
rife  in  Europe,  and  when  their  introduction  into  the 
United  States  excited  serious  alarm,  a  Naturalisation 
Act  was  carried  increasing  the  necessary  term  of  resi- 
dence from  five  to  fourteen  years ;  but  this  Act  was 
only  in  force  for  four  years.  The  Know-nothing 
party,  which  played  a  considerable  part  in  American 
politics  in  1854  and  the  two  following  years,  en- 
deavoured to  revive  the  policy  of  1798.  It  grew  up  at 
the  time  when  the  evil  effects  of  the  great  immigration 
that  followed  the  Irish  famine  had  become  apparent, 
and  it  was  assisted  by  a  fierce  anti-Popery  fanaticism, 
which  had  been  much  strengthened  by  the  hostility  the 
Catholic  clergy  had  begun  to  show  to  the  common 
schools,  and  by  the  attempt  of  some  of  them  to  exclude 
Bible-reading  from  those  schools.  It  was  guilty  of  not 
a  little  lawless  violence,  and  although  it  succeeded,  in 
1855,  in  carrying  nine  of  the  States  elections,  and  in 
1856  nominated  presidential  candidates,  it  soon  per- 
ished, chiefly  through  its  divisions  on  the  slavery  ques- 
tion, and  through  the  transcendent  importance  that 
question  was  beginning  to  take  in  American  politics. 
It  is  said  that  Washington,  in  some  moment  of  great 
danger,  gave  the  order,  '  Put  none  but  Americans  on 
guard  to-night,'  and  these  words  were  taken  by  the 
Know-nothings  as  their  watchword.  Their  funda- 
mental object  was  the  exclusion  of  foreigners  and  Cath- 
olics from  all  national,  State,  county,  and  municipal 
offices,  and  a  change  in  the  naturalisation  laws  provid- 


92  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  en.  i. 

ing  that  no  immigrant  should  become  a  citizen  till 
after  a  residence  of  twenty-one,  or,  at  the  very  least,  of 
fifteen  years.  ^ 

Few  persons  would  now  defend  the  proposal  to  in- 
troduce a  religious  disqualification  into  the  American 
Constitution  ;  but  if  the  Know-nothings  had  succeeded 
in  lengthening  the  period  of  residence  required  for  nat- 
uralisation, they  might  have  given  a  different  charac- 
ter to  American,  political  life  and  incalculably  raised 
its  moral  tone.  Their  best  defence  is  to  be  found  in 
the  enormous  scandals  in  the  government  of  New  York 
that  immediately  followed  their  defeat.  To  one  class 
especially,  a  change  in  the  laws  of  naturalisation  would 
have  been  a  priceless  blessing.  It  is  difficult  to  say 
how  different  the  Irish  element  in  America  might  have 
been  if  the  poor,  ignorant,  helpless,  famine-stricken  pea- 
santry who  poured  by  tens  of  thousands  into  New  York 
had  been  encouraged  to  pass  at  once  into  honest  indus- 
try, scattered  on  farms  over  the  face  of  the  country,  and 
kept  for  fifteen  or  twenty  years  out  of  the  corrupting 
influence  of  American  politics.  But  the  shrewd  party 
managers  soon  perceived  that  these  poor  men  were 
among  the  best  counters  in  their  game.  The  immedi- 
ate prospect  of  much  higher  wages  than  they  had  been 
accustomed  to  kept  an  immense  proportion  of  them  in 
the  great  city  where  they  landed.  They  had  no  one  to 
guide  them.  They  were  hardly  more  fitted  than  chil- 
dren to  make  their  way  under  new  conditions  in  a 
strange  land,  and  almost  their  only  genuine  political 
feeling  was  hatred  of  England.  Like  the  Germans, 
they  showed  from  the  first  a  marked  tendency  to  con- 


'  Much   information    on   the  United   States  from,  the  Com- 

Know-nothing  movement  will  be  promise  of  1850,  and  in  an  arti- 

found  in  the  second  volume  of  cle   by  Mr.  McMaster  in     The 

Mr.   Rhodes's  History    of  the  Forum^  July  1894. 


CH.  I.  IRISH  AND  NEGRO  VOTERS  93 

gregate  in  great  towns.  It  was  computed  in  1890,  that 
a  third  part  of  the  Irish  in  America  were  still  to  be 
found  in  the  ten  largest  towns  ;  that,  taking  the  popu- 
lation of  those  towns  together,  one  out  of  every  thir- 
teen persons  was  Irish,  and  that  in  New  York,  out  of 
a  population  of  a  little  more  than  1,200,000,  198,000 
were  Irish.'  Five  years  were  required  for  naturalisa- 
tion by  the  Federal  law,  but  some  State  laws  gave  a 
vote  after  a  shorter  residence,  and  the  Federal  law  was 
easily  and  constantly  violated.  Immense  numbers,  who 
were  absolutely  ignorant  of  all  American  public  ques- 
tions, and  absolutely  indifferent  to  public  interests, 
were  speedily  drilled  in  the  party  organisation.  They 
soon  learned  their  lesson.  They  acquired  a  rare  apti- 
tude in  running  the  machine,  in  turning  the  balance 
of  doubtful  elections,  in  voting  together  in  disciplined 
masses,  in  using  political  power  for  private  gain. 
There  are  few  sadder  histories  than  the  influence  of  the 
Irish  race  on  American  politics,  and  the  influence  of 
American  politics  on  the  Irish  race. 

The  enfranchisement  of  the  negroes  added  a  new 
and  enormous  mass  of  voters,  who  were  utterly  and 
childishly  incompetent,  and  it  applied  mainly  to  that 
portion  of  the  United  States  which  had  escaped  the 
contamination  of  the  immigrant  vote.  For  some  time 
after  the  war  the  influence  of  property  and  intelligence 
in  the  South  was  completely  broken,  and  the  negro 
vote  was  ostensibly  supreme.  The  consequence  was 
what  might  have  been  expected.  A  host  of  vagrant 
political  adventurers  from  the  North,  known  in  Amer- 
ica as  carpet-baggers,  poured  into  the  Southern  prov- 
inces, and,  in  conjunction  with  the  refuse  of  the 
mean  whites,  they  undertook  the  direction  of  the  negro 


'  Hart's  Essays  on  American  Government^  pp.  192,  204. 


94  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

votes.  Then  followed,  under  the  protection  of  the 
Northern  bayonets,  a  grotesque  parody  of  government, 
a  hideous  orgie  of  anarchy,  violence,  unrestrained  cor- 
ruption, undisguised,  ostentatious,  insulting  robbery, 
such  as  the  world  had  scarcely  ever  seen.  The  State 
debts  were  profusely  piled  up.  Legislation  was  openly 
put  up  for  sale.  The  '  Bosses '  were  in  all  their  glory, 
and  they  were  abundantly  rewarded,  while  the  crushed, 
ruined,  plundered  whites  combined  in  secret  societies 
for  their  defence,  and  retaliated  on  their  oppressors  by 
innumerable  acts  of  savage  vengeance.^  At  length  the 
Northern  troops  were  withdrawn,  and  the  whole  scene 
changed.  The  carpet-baggers  had  had  their  day,  and 
they  returned  laden  with  Southern  booty  to  their  own 
States.  Partly  by  violence,  partly  by  fraud,  but  largely 
also  through  the  force  of  old  habits  of  obedience  and 
command,  the  planters  in  a  short  time  regained  their 
ascendency.  Sometimes,  it  is  said,  they  did  not  even 
count  the  negro  votes.  Generally  they  succeeded  in 
dictating  them,  and  by  systematic  manipulation  or  in- 
timidation they  restored  the  South  to  quiet  and  some 
degree  of  prosperity.  A  more  curious  picture  of  the 
effects  of  democratic  equality  among  a  population  who 
were  entirely  unfitted  for  it  had  never  been  presented. 
The  North,  it  is  true,  introduced  all  the  apparatus  of 
State  education  for  the  benefit  of  the  negroes ;  but  if 
there  had  ever  been  any  desire  for  such  things,  it  soon 
died  away.  Mr.  Bryce,  writing  about  twenty-three 
years  after  the   termination  of   the  Civil  AVar,  says  : 


'  See  Bryce,  ii.  520-21 ;  Gold-  dinary  reign  of  terror  and  plun- 

win  Smith,  p.   300.     M.  Molin-  der  that  existed   in  the  South 

ari,  in  his  very  interesting  Let-  while   the   carpet-baggers  were 

ires  sur  les    Etats-Unis    et   le  in  power  (see  pp.  185-97,  270- 

Canada,  lias  collected  a  number  72). 
of  facts  illustrating  the  extraor- 


CH.  I.  CORRUPTION  IN  NEW  YORK  96 

*Eoughly  speaking,  75  per  cent,  of  the  adult  coloured 
voters  are  unable  to  write,  and  most  of  the  rest  unac- 
customed to  read  newspapers/^ 

The  system  I  have  described  has  proved  even  more 
pernicious  in  municipal  government  than  in  State  pol- 
itics or  in  Federal  politics.  Innumerable  elections  of 
obscure  men  to  obscure  places  very  naturally  failed  to 
excite  general  interest,  and  they  almost  inevitably  fell 
into  the  hands  of  a  small  ring  of  professional  politicians. 
The  corruption  of  New  York,  which  has  been  the  most 
notorious,  is  often  attributed  almost  exclusively  to  the 
Irish  vote  ;  but  as  early  as  the  first  quarter  of  the  nine- 
teenth century,  when  Irish  influence  was  quite  imper- 
ceptible, the  State  and  City  of  New  York  were  in  the 
hands  of  a  clique  called  '  the  Albany  Eegency,^  which 
appears  to  have  exhibited  on  a  small  scale  most  of  the 
features  of  the  later  rings.  '  A  strong  phalanx  of  offi- 
cers, from  the  governor  and  the  senators  down  to 
the  justices  of  peace  in  the  most  remote  part  of  the 
State,'  we  are  told,  governed  New  York  for  the  sole 
benefit  of  a  small  knot  of  corrupt  politicians.  '  The 
judiciaries'  were  'shambles  for  the  bargain  and  sale  of 
offices.'  The  justices  of  the  peace  were  all  the  creatures 
of  the  party,  and  were  almost  invariably  corrupt.^  Be- 
tween 1842  and  1846,  when  the  great  Irish  immigra- 
tion had  not  yet  begun,  an  evil  of  another  kind  was 
prevailing  in  New  York.  It  was  the  custom  to  allow 
the  inmates  of  public  almshouses  to  leave  the  institu- 
tions on  the  days  of  election  and  cast  their  votes ;  and 
an  American  writer  assures  us  that  at  this  time  '  the 
almshouses  formed  an  important  factor  in  the  politics 


'  Bryce,  ii.  92-93.  Works  (New  York,    1853),   iii. 

*  See  an  address  of  the  well-  334-37.  The  first  political  work 

known  statesman,  AV.  H.  Sew-  of  Mr.  Seward  was  to  resist  the 

ard,  October  5,  1824  :   Seward's  Albany  King. 


96  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

of  the  State  of  New  York,  for  the  paupers  were  sent 
out  to  vote  by  the  party  in  power,  and  were  threatened 
with  a  loss  of  support  unless  they  voted  as  directed ; 
and  the  number  was  such  as  to  turn  the  scale  in  the 
districts  in  which  they  voted.' ^  It  was  abuses  of  this 
kind  that  led  to  one  of  the  greatest  modern  improve- 
ments in  American  politics — the  exclusion  in  several 
States  of  absolute  paupers  from  the  franchise. 

It  is  true,  however,  that  the  corruption  never  at- 
tained anything  approaching  the  magnitude  which  it 
reached  between  1863  and  1871,  when  all  the  powers 
of  the  State  and  town  of  New  York  had  passed  into 
the  hands  of  the  Tammany  Ring.  At  this  time  four- 
ninths  of  the  population  were  of  foreign  birth.  A 
vast  proportion  consisted  of  recent  immigrants,  and 
the  Irish  Catholic  vote  seems  to  have  '  gone  solid '  in 
favour  of  the  ring.  The  majority  of  the  State  legisla- 
ture, the  mayor,  the  governor,  several  of  the  judges, 
almost  all  the  municipal  authorities  who  were  empow- 
ered to  order,  appropriate,  supervise  and  control  expen- 
diture, were  its  creatures,  and  I  suppose  no  other  cap- 
ital city  in  the  civilised  globe  has  ever,  in  time  of  peace, 
witnessed  such  a  system  of  wholesale,  organised,  con- 
tinuous plunder.  It  was  computed  that  65  per  cent,  of 
the  sums  that  were  ostensibly  expended  in  public  works 
represented  fraudulent  additions.  Between  1860  and 
1871  the  debt  of  New  York  quintupled,  and  during 
the  last  two  and  a  half  years  of  the  government  of  the 
ring  it  increased  at  the  rate  of  more  than  five  and  a  half 
millions  of  pounds  a  year.^  A  distinguished  Amer- 
ican writer,  who  is  also  a  distinguished   diplomatist 


'  Ford's   American    Citizen's  York  City  in  Mr.  Bryce's  third 

ifariwa/,  i.  88-89.  vohime.  See  especially  pp.  179, 

"  See  Mr.  Goodnow's  chapter  190,  195. 
on  the    Tweed  Ring  in    New 


CH.  I.  MUNICIPAL  CORRUPTION  97 

and  well  acquainted  with  the  conditions  of  European 
capitals,  has  drawn  the  following  instructive  parallel. 
'  The  city  of  Berlin,  in  size  and  rapidity  of  growth, 
may  be  compared  to  New  York.  It  contains  twelve 
hundred  thousand  inhabitants,  and  its  population  has 
tripled  within  the  last  thirty  years.  .  .  .  While  Ber- 
lin has  a  municipal  life  at  the  same  time  dignified 
and  economical,  with  streets  well  paved  and  clean,  with 
a  most  costly  system  of  drainage,  with  noble  public 
buildings,  with  life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of  happi- 
ness better  guarded  by  far  than  in  our  own  metropolis, 
the  whole  government  is  carried  on  by  its  citizens  for 
but  a  trifle  more  than  the  interest  of  the  public  debt  of 
the  city  of  New  York.' 

*  I  wish,'  says  the  same  writer,  '  to  deliberately  state 
a  fact  easy  of  verification — the  fact  that  whereas,  as  a 
rule,  in  other  civilised  countries  municipal  Govern- 
ments have  been  steadily  improving  until  they  have 
been  made  generally  honest  and  serviceable,  our  own, 
as  a  rule,  are  the  worst  in  the  world,  and  they  are 
steadily  growing  worse  every  day.'  * 

The  case  of  New  York  was  an  extreme  one,  but  was, 
indeed,  very  far  from  being  unique.  *  The  government 
of  the  cities,'  says  Mr.  Bryce,  '  is  the  one  conspicu- 
ous failure  of  the  United  States.  .  .  .  The  faults  of 
the  State  Governments  are  insignificant  compared  with 
the  extravagance,  corruption,  and  mismanagement 
which  mark  the  administration  of  most  of  the  great 
cities.  For  these  evils  are  not  confined  to  one  or  two 
cities.    .    .    .    There  is  not  a  city  with  a  population 


'  The   Message  of  the   Nine-  by  the   same  writer,    on  '  The 

teenth  Century  to  the  Twentieth,  Government   of  American   Cit- 

by    Andrew     Dickson    WMte  ies '  ( The    Forum,    December 

(Newhaven,    1883),  pp.    14-15;  1890). 
see  also  an  instructive   article, 


98  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  i. 

of  200,000  where  the  poison-germs  have  not  sprung 
into  vigorous  life,  and  in  some  of  the  smaller  ones, 
down  to  70,000,  it  needs  no  microscope  to  note  the  re- 
sults of  their  growth.  Even  in  cities  of  the  third  rank 
similar  phenomena  may  occasionally  be  discerned ; 
though  there,  as  some  one  has  said,  the  jet-black  of 
New  York  or  San  Francisco  dies  away  into  a  harmless 
grey.''  It  should  be  added,  that  there  is  no  country 
in  the  world  in  which  this  question  is  more  important 
than  in  the  United  States,  for  there  is  no  country  in 
which  town  life  during  the  present  century  has  in- 
creased so  enormously  and  so  rapidly.  The  proportion 
of  the  population  who  live  in  towns  of  over  8,000  in- 
habitants is  said  to  have  risen  in  that  period  from  4  to 
more  than  23  per  cent.^ 

Mr.  Bryce  has  enumerated  from  good  American 
sources  the  chief  forms  which  this  municipal  robbery 
assumes.  There  are  sales  of  monopolies  in  the  use  of 
public  thoroughfares  ;  systematic  jobbing  of  contracts  ; 
enormous  abuses  in  patronage  ;  enormous  overcharges 
for  necessary  public  works.  Cities  have  been  com- 
pelled to  buy  lands  for  parks  and  places  because  the 
owners  wished  to  sell  them  ;  to  grade,  pave,  and  sewer 
streets  without  inhabitants  in  order  to  award  corrupt 
contracts  for  the  works  ;  to  purchase  worthless  proper- 
ties at  extravagant  prices ;  to  abolish  one  office  and 
create  another  with  the  same  duties,  or  to  vary  the 
functions  of  offices  for  the  sole  purpose  of  redistribut- 
ing official  emoluments  ;  to  make  or  keep  the  salary  of 
an  office  unduly  high  in  order  that  its  tenant  may  pay 
largely  to  the  party  funds ;  to  lengthen  the  term  of 

1  Bryce,  ii.  281.  and  an  article  by  Mr.  Springer, 
"  See  an  essay  on  American  on  '  City  Growth  and  Tarty  Pol- 
cities  in  Hart's  Assays  ow  A?7ier-  itics,'    The    Forum,   December 
ican  Government,  pp.  162-205 ;  1890. 


CH.  I.  MUNICIPAL  CORRUPTION  99 

ofl&ce  in  order  to  secure  the  tenure  of  corrupt  or  in- 
competent men.  When  increasing  taxation  begins  to 
arouse  resistance,  loans  are  launched  under  false  pre- 
tences, and  often  with  the  assistance  of  falsified  ac- 
counts. In  all  the  chief  towns  municipal  debts  have 
risen  to  colossal  dimensions  and  increased  with  porten- 
tous rapidity.  '  Within  the  twenty  years  from  1860  to 
1880/  says  an  American  writer,  '  the  debts  of  the  cities 
of  the  Union  rose  from  about  $100,000,000  to  1682,- 
000,000.  From  1860  to  1875  the  increase  of  debt  in 
eleven  cities  was  270.9  percent.,  increase  of  taxation 
362.2  per  cent.  ;  whereas  the  increase  in  taxable  valu- 
ation was  but  156.9  per  cent.,  and  increase  in  popula 
tion  but  70  per  cent.' '  The  New  York  Commissioners 
of  1876  probably  understated  the  case  when  they  de- 
clared that  more  than  half  of  all  the  present  city  debts 
in  the  United  States  are  the  direct  results  of  inten- 
tional and  corrupt  misrule. ^ 

No  candid  man  can  wonder  at  it.  It  is  the  plain, 
inevitable  consequence  of  the  application  of  the  meth- 
ods of  extreme  democracy  to  municipal  government. 
In  America,  as  in  England,  municipal  elections  fail  to 
attract  the  same  interest  and  attention  as  great  politi- 
cal ones,  and  when  all  the  smaller  offices  are  filled  by 
popular  election,  and  when  those  elections  are  continu- 
ally recurring,  it  is  impossible  for  busy  men  to  master 
their  details  or  form  any  judgment  on  the  many  ob- 
scure candidates  who  appear  before  them.  Property 
qualifications  are  deemed  too  aristocratic  for  a  demo- 
cratic people.  The  good  old  clause,  that  might  once 
have  been  found  in  many  charters,  providing  that  no 
one  should  vote  upon  any  proposition  to  raise  a  tax  or 


'  Sterne's    United   States,   p.         ^  Bryce,  ii.   278-87,   469-74, 
267  ;  see  also  Bryce,  ii.  280.  521. 


100  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  i 

to  appropriate  its  proceeds  unless  he  was  himself  liable 
to  be  assessed  for  such  tax,  has  disappeared.  *  It  is 
deemed  undemocratic  ;  practical  men  say  there  is  no 
use  in  submitting  it  to  a  popular  vote.' '  The  elections 
are  by  manhood  suiirage.  Only  a  small  proportion  of 
the  electors  have  any  appreciable  interest  in  moderate 
taxation  and  economical  administration,  and  a  propor- 
tion of  votes,  which  is  usually  quite  sufficient  to  hold 
the  balance  of  power,  is  in  the  hands  of  recent  and  most 
ignorant  immigrants.  Is  it  possible  to  conceive  con- 
ditions more  fitted  to  subserve  the  purposes  of  cunning 
and  dishonest  men,  whose  object  is  personal  gain, 
whose  method  is  the  organisation  of  the  vicious  and 
ignorant  elements  of  the  community  into  combinations 
that  can  turn  elections,  levy  taxes,  and  appoint  admin- 
istrators ? 

The  rings  are  so  skilfully  constructed  that  they  can 
nearly  always  exclude  from  office  a  citizen  who  is 
known  to  be  hostile  ;  though  '  a  good,  easy  man,  who 
will  not  fight,  and  will  make  a  reputable  figure-head, 
may  be  an  excellent  investment.'^  Sometimes,  no 
doubt,  the  bosses  quarrel  among  themselves,  and  the 
cause  of  honest  government  may  gain  something  by  the 
dispute.  But  in  general,  as  long  as  government  is  not 
absolutely  intolerable,  the  more  industrious  and  respect- 
able classes  keep  aloof  from  the  nauseous  atmosphere 
of  municipal  politics,  and  decline  the  long,  difficult, 
doubtful  task  of  entering  into  conflict  with  the  dom- 
inant rings.  '  The  affairs  of  the  city,'  says  Mr.  White, 
'  are  virtually  handed  over  to  a  few  men  who  make 
politics,  so  called,  a  business.  The  very  germ  of  the 
difficulty  was  touched  once,  in  my  presence,  by  a  lead- 
ing man  of  business  in  our  great  metropolis,  who  said  ; 


>  Bryce,  ii.  291.  » Ibid.  ii.  469. 


CH.  I.  MUNICIPAL  COKRUPTION  101 

"  We  have  thought  this  thing  over,  and  we  find  that  it 
pays  better  to  neglect  our  city  affairs  than  to  attend  to 
them  ;  that  we  can  make  more  money  in  the  time  re- 
quired for  the  full  discharge  of  our  political  duties  than 
the  politicians  can  steal  from  us  on  account  of  our  not 
discharging  them." '  ^ 

The  evil  has,  however,  undoubtedly,  in  many  cases 
become  intolerable,  and  the  carnival  of  plunder  that 
culminated  in  New  York  in  1871  gave  a  shock  to  pub- 
lic opinion  and  began  a  series  of  amendments  which 
appear  to  have  produced  some  real  improvement.  *  The 
problem,^  says  Mr.  Sterne,  '  is  becoming  a  very  serious 
one  how,  with  the  growth  of  a  pauper  element,  prop- 
erty rights  in  cities  can  be  protected  from  confiscation 
at  the  hands  of  the  non-producing  classes.  That  the 
suffrage  is  a  spear  as  well  as  a  shield  is  a  fact  which 
many  writers  on  suffrage  leave  out  of  sight ;  that  it 
not  only  protects  the  holder  of  the  vote  from  aggression, 
but  also  enables  him  to  aggress  upon  the  rights  of 
others  by  means  of  the  taxing  power,  is  a  fact  to  which 
more  and  more  weight  must  be  given  as  population  in- 
creases and  the  suffrage  is  extended.'  ^  Some  good  has 
been  done  by  more  severe  laws  against  corruption  at 
elections ;  though,  in  spite  of  these  laws,  the  perjury 
and  personation  and  wholesale  corruption  of  a  New 
York  election  appear  far  to  exceed  anything  that  can 
be  found  in  the  most  corrupt  capital  in  Europe.^  A 
great  reform,  however,  has  been  made  by  the  extension 
of  the  term  of  office  of  the  New  York  judges  in  the 
higher  courts  to  fourteen  years,   and  by  a  measure 


'  White's  Message  of  the  Nine-  way  in  which  New  York  elec- 

ieenth  Century  to  the  Twentieth,  tions  are  still  conducted,  by  Mr. 

pp.  15-16.  Goff,   in    the   North  American 

«  Sterne,  p.  271.  Review,  1894,  pp.  203-10. 

*  See  a  striking  account  of  the 


102  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

granting  them  independent  salaries.  The  general  im- 
punity of  the  great  organisers  of  corruption  was  broken 
in  1894,  when  one  of  the  chief  bosses  in  America,  a  man 
of  vast  wealth  and  enormous  influence  in  American 
politics,  was  at  last  brought  to  justice  and  sentenced  to 
six  years'  imprisonment.^ 

The  most  successful  steps,  however,  taken  in  the 
direction  of  reform  have  been  those  limiting  the  power 
of  corrupt  bodies.  One  of  the  most  valuable  and  most 
distinctive  features  of  the  American  Constitution  is  the 
power  of  electing  conventions  independent  of  the  State 
legislatures  for  the  purpose  of  effecting  amendments  in 
the  State  constitutions.  Being  specially  elected  for  a 
single  definite  purpose,  and  for  a  very  short  time,  and 
having  none  of  the  patronage  and  administrative  pow- 
ers that  are  vested  in  the  Legislature,  these  conven- 
tions, though  the  creatures  of  universal  suffrage,  have 
in  a  great  degree  escaped  the  influence  of  the  machine, 
and  represent  the  normal  and  genuine  wishes  of  the 
community.  They  have  no  power  of  enacting  amend- 
ments, but  they  have  the  power  of  proposing  them  and 
submitting  them  to  a  direct  popular  vote.  By  these 
means  a  number  of  amendments  have,  during  the  last 
few  years,  been  introduced  into  the  State  constitutions. 
In  New  York,  and  in  several  other  States,  since  1874 
the  State  legislatures  are  only  permitted  to  legislate  for 
municipal  affairs  by  a  general  law,  and  are  deprived  of 
the  much-abused  right  of  making  special  laws  in  fa- 
vour of  particular  individuals  or  corporations  ;  but  it 
is  said  that  these  restrictions  are  easily  and  constantly 
evaded. 2      Restrictions  have  been   imposed   in  many 

"  A  curious  letter  on  the  ca-  be  found  in  The  Times,  March 

reer   of  this   personage,   called  2,  1894. 
'  The   Downfall   of  a  Political  »  Sterne,  pp.  258-59. 

Boss  in  the  United  States,'  will 


CH.  I,    RESTRICTIONS  ON  STATE  LEGISLATURES        103 

States  upon  forms  of  corruption  that  had  been  widely 
practised,  in  the  guise  of  distributions  of  public  funds 
in  aid  of  charities  connected  with  religious  establish- 
ments, and  of  exemptions  from  taxation  granted  to 
charitable  institutions.  In  a  few  States  some  provision 
has  been  made  to  secure  a  representation' of  minorities/ 
and  in  many  States  limitations — which,  however,  have 
been  often  successfully  evaded — have  been  imposed  on 
the  power  of  borrowing  and  the  power  of  taxing. ^  The 
theory  of  American  statesmen  seems  to  be,  that  the 
persons  elected  on  a  democratic  system  are  always  likely 
to  prove  dishonest,  but  that  it  is  possible  by  constitu- 
tional laws  to  restrict  their  dishonesty  to  safe  limits. 
There  has  been  a  strong  tendency  of  late  years  to  mul- 
tiply and  elaborate  in  minute  detail  constitutional  re- 
strictions, and  the  policy  has  also  been  widely  adopted 
of  making  the  sessions  of  State  legislatures  biennial  in- 
stead of  annual,  in  order  to  limit  their  powers  of  mis- 
chief. 

The  following  interesting  passage  from  one  of  the 
chief  living  historians  of  America  well  represents  the 
new  spirit.  '  It  has  become  the  fashion  to  set  limits  on 
the  power  of  the  governors,  of  the  legislatures,  of  the 
courts ;  to  command  them  to  do  this,  to  forbid  them 
to  do  that,  till  a  modern  State  constitution  is  more 
like  a  code  of  laws  than  an  instrument  of  representative 
government.  A  distrust  of  the  servants  and  represen- 
tatives of  the  people  is  everywhere  manifest.  A  long 
and  bitter  experience  has  convinced  the  people  that 


'  Ford,  i.  113-15.  never  exceed  7  per  cent,  of  the 
"  See,  on  this  subject,  Bryce,  assessed  value  of  the  taxable 
ii.  293-94.  One  favourite  form  property.  In  order  to  evade 
of  restriction  has  been  that  the  tliis  the  assessed  value  of  prop- 
debt  of  a  county,  city,  borough,  erty  has  almost  everywhere  been 
township,  or  school  district  shall  largely  increased. 


104  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

legislators  will  roll  up  the  State  debt  unless  positively 
forbidden  to  go  beyond  a  certain  figure  ;  tliat  they  will 
suffer  railroads  to  parallel  each  other,  corporations  to 
consolidate,  common  carriers  to  discriminate,  city 
councils  to  sell  valuable  franchises  to  street-car  com- 
panies and  telephone  companies,  unless  the  State  con- 
stitution expressly  declares  that  such  things  shall  not 
be.  So  far  has  this  system  of  prohibition  been  carried, 
that  many  legislatures  are  not  allowed  to  enact  any 
private  or  special  legislation  ;  are  not  allowed  to  re- 
lieve individuals  or  corporations  from  obligations  to  the 
State  ;  are  not  allowed  to  pass  a  Bill  in  which  any 
member  is  interested,  or  to  loan  the  credit  of  the 
State,  or  to  consider  money  Bills  in  the  last  hours  of 
the  session.'  ^  In  Washington,  a  still  stronger  meas- 
ure has  been  adopted,  and  the  whole  municipal  govern- 
ment is  placed  in  the  hands  of  a  commission  appointed 
directly  by  the  Congress. 

At  the  same  time,  another  very  different,  and  per- 
haps more  efficacious,  method  has  been  adopted  of 
checking  municipal  corruption,  and  Laveleyehas  justly 
regarded  it  as  extremely  significant  of  the  future  ten- 
dencies of  democracy.  There  are  two  facts,  as  yet 
very  imperfectly  recognised  in  Europe,  which  Amer- 
ican experience  has  amply  established.  The  first  is 
that,  in  the  words  of  an  American  writer,  '  there  can 
be  no  question  that  one  of  the  most  prolific  sources  of 
official  corruption  and  incompetency  lies  in  the  multi- 
plication of  elective  offices.'^  The  second  is,  that  this 
multiplication,  instead  of  strengthening,  materially  di- 
minishes popular  control,  for  it  confuses  issues,  divides 
and  obscures  responsibility,  weakens  the  moral  effect  of 


•  See  an  article,  by  Mr.  Mc-      cember  1893,  p.  470. 
Master,   in    The    Forum,    Be-  «  Ford,  i.  129. 


CH.  I.    TENDENCY  TO  CONCENTRATE  POWER     105 

each,  election,  bewilders  the  ordinary  elector,  who  knows 
little  or  nothing  of  the  merits  of  the  different  candi- 
dates, and  inevitably  ends  by  throwing  the  chief  power 
into  the  hands  of  a  small  knot  of  wirepullers.  The  sys- 
tem has,  accordingly,  grown  up  in  America  of  invest- 
ing the  mayors  of  the  towns  with  an  almost  autocratic 
authority,  and  making  them  responsible  for  the  good 
government  of  the  city.  These  mayors  are  themselves 
elected  by  popular  suffrage  for  periods  ranging  from 
one  to  five  years ;  they  are  liable  to  impeachment  if 
they  abuse  their  functions ;  the  State  legislature  re- 
tains the  right  of  giving  or  withholding  supplies,  and 
it  can  override,  though  only  by  a  two-thirds  majority, 
the  veto  of  the  mayor.  But,  in  spite  of  these  restric- 
tions, the  power  vested  in  this  functionary,  according 
to  recent  constitutional  amendments,  is  enormously 
great,  far  greater  than  in  European  cities.  With  very 
slight  restrictions,  the  mayor  appoints  and  can  remove 
all  the  heads  of  all  the  city  departments.  He  exercises  a 
right  of  veto  and  supervision  over  all  their  proceedings. 
He  is  responsible  for  the  working  of  every  part  of  mu- 
nicipal administration.  He  keeps  the  peace,  calls  out 
the  Militia,  enforces  the  law,  and,  in  a  word,  deter- 
mines in  all  its  main  lines  the  character  of  the  city 
government.  This  system  began  in  Brooklyn  in  1882. 
It  was  extended,  apparently  with  excellent  results,  to 
]S"ew  York  in  1884 ;  and  the  same  highly  concentrated 
responsibility  is  spreading  rapidly  through  other 
States.^  It  is  curious  to  observe  the  strength  which 
this  tendency  is  assuming  in  a  country  which  beyond 
all  others  was  identified  with  the  opposite  system  ;  and 
it  is  regarded  by  some  excellent  political  writers  in 


•  Bryce,  ii.  264-65,  292,  304-5,  iii.  196 ;  Laveleye,  Le  Gomeme- 
ment  dans  la  Democratie^  i.  97-109. 


106  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  i. 

America  as  the  oue  real  corrective  of  the  vices  of  de- 
mocracy. In  the  words  of  one  of  the  most  recent  of 
these  writers,  '  the  tendency  is  visibly  strengthening  in 
the  United  States  to  concentrate  administrative  powers 
in  the  hands  of  one  man,  and  to  hold  him  responsible 
for  its  wise  and  honest  use.  Diffusion  of  responsibil- 
ity through  a  crowd  of  legislators  has  proved  to  be  a 
deceptive  method  of  securing  the  public  welfare.^  ^ 

It  seems  to  me  probable  that  this  system  will  ulti- 
mately, and  after  many  costly  and  disastrous  experi- 
ments, spread  widely  wherever  unqualified  democracy 
prevails.  In  the  election  of  a  very  conspicuous  person, 
who  is  invested  with  very  great  prerogatives,  public 
interest  is  fully  aroused,  and  a  wave  of  opinion  arises 
which  in  some  degree  overflows  the  lines  of  strict  cau- 
cus politics.  The  increasing  power  of  organisations  is 
a  conspicuous  fact  in  all  countries  that  are  gliding  down 
the  democratic  slope.  It  is  abundantly  seen  in  England, 
where  candidates  for  Parliament  are  now  more  and  more 
exclusively  nominated  by  party  organisations ;  and  in 
the  United  States  the  power  of  such  bodies  is  far 
greater  than  in  England.  But  while  in  obscure  and 
comparatively  'insignificant  appointments  the  managers 
of  the  machine  can  usually  do  much  what  they  please, 
they  are  obliged  in  the  more  important  elections  to 
take  average  non-political  opinion  into  account.  The 
best  candidates  are  not  found  to  be  men  of  great  emi- 
nence or  ability,  for  these  always  excite  animosities  and 
divisions  ;  but  it  is  equally  important  that  they  should 
not  be  men  labouring  under  gross  moral  imputations. 
The  system  of  double  election  also,  though  it  has  been 
greatly  weakened,  probably  still  exercises  some  influence 
in  diminishing  corruption.     It  is  like  the  process  of 


»  Gilman,  Socialism  and  the  American  Spirit,  p.  82. 


CH.  I.  CORRUPTION  IN  CONGRESS  107 

successive  inoculations,  by  which  physiologists  are 
able  to  attenuate  the  virus  of  a  disease.  On  the  whole, 
corruption  in  the  United  States  is  certainly  less  promi- 
nent in  the  higher  than  in  the  lower  spheres  of  govern- 
ment, though  even  in  the  former  it  appears  to  me  to  be 
far  greater  than  in  most  European  countries — certainly 
far  greater  than  in  Great  Britain. 

I  can,  however,  hardly  do  better  than  give  a  sum- 
mary of  the  conclusions  of  Mr.  Bryce.  They  appear 
to  me  the  more  impressive  because,  in  the  somewhat 
curious  chapter  which  he  has  devoted  to  American  cor- 
ruption, it  is  his  evident  desire  to  minimise,  as  far  as 
he  honestly  can,  both  its  gravity  and  its  significance. 
No  President,  he  says,  has  ever  been  seriously  charged 
with  pecuniary  corruption,  and  there  is  no  known  in- 
stance, since  the  presidency  which  immediately  pre- 
ceded the  Civil  War,  of  a  Cabinet  minister  receiving  a 
direct  money  bribe  as  the  price  of  an  executive  act  or 
an  appointment ;  but  several  leading  ministers  of  re- 
cent Administrations  have  been  suspected  of  compli- 
city in  railroad  jobs,  and  even  in  frauds  upon  the  rev- 
enue. In  the  Legislature,  both  the  senators  and  the 
members  of  the  House  of  Representatives  labour  under 
'  abundant  suspicions,^  '  abundant  accusations,'  but 
few  of  these  '  have  been,  or  could  have  been,  sifted  to 
the  bottom.'  '  The  opportunities  for  private  gain  are 
large,  the  chances  of  detection  small.'  All  that  can  be 
safely  said  is,  that  personal  dishonesty  in  the  exercise 
of  legislative  powers,  of  a  kind  quite  distinct  from  the 
political  profligacy  with  which  we  are  in  our  own  coun- 
try abundantly  familiar,  prevails  largely  and  unques- 
tionably in  America.  It  is  especially  prominent  in  what 
we  should  call  private  Bills  affecting  the  interests  of 
railroads  or  of  other  wealthy  corporations,  and  in  Bills 
altering  the  tariff  of  imports,  on  which  a  vast  range  of 


108  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  i. 

manufacturing  interests  largely  depend.  '  The  doors 
of  Congress  are  besieged  by  a  whole  army  of  commercial 
and  railroad  men  and  their  agents,  to  whom,  since  they 
have  come  to  form  a  sort  of  profession,  the  name  of 
Lobbyists  is  given.  Many  Congressmen  are  personally 
interested,  and  lobby  for  themselves  among  their  col- 
leagues from  the  vantage-ground  of  their  official  posi- 
tions.' 

The  object  of  the  lobbyist  is  to  '  offer  considerations 
for  help  in  passing  a  Bill  which  is  desired,  or  stopping 
a  Bill  which  is  feared.'  There  are  several  different 
methods.  There  is  '  log-rolling,'  when  members  in- 
terested in  different  private  Bills  come  to  an  agree- 
ment that  each  will  support  the  Bill  of  the  others  on 
condition  of  himself  receiving  the  same  assistance. 
There  is  the  ^strike,'  which  means  that  'a  member 
brings  in  a  Bill  directed  against  some  railroad  or  other 
great  corporation  merely  in  order  to  levy  blackmail 
upon  it.  .  .  .  An  eminent  railroad  president  told  me 
that  for  some  years  a  certain  senator  regularly  prac- 
tised this  trick.'  '  It  is  universally  admitted  that  the 
Capitol  and  the  hotels  of  Washington  are  a  nest  of 
such  intrigues  and  machinations  while  Congress  is  sit- 
ting.' The  principal  method,  however,  of  succeeding 
seems  to  be  simple  bribery,  though  'no  one  can  tell 
how  many  of  the  members  are  tainted.'  Sometimes 
the  money  does  not  go  to  the  member  of  Congress,  but  to 
the  boss  who  controls  him.  Sometimes  a  lobbyist  re- 
ceives money  to  bribe  an  honest  member,  but,  finding 
he  is  going  to  vote  in  the  way  desired,  keeps  it  in  his 
own  pocket.  Often  members  are  bribed  to  support  a 
railway  by  a  transfer  of  portions  of  its  stocks.  Free 
passes  were  so  largely  given  with  the  same  object  to 
legislators  that  an  Act  was  passed  in  1887  to  forbid 
them.     Mr.  Bryce  mentions  a  governor  who  used  to 


CH.  I.        CORRUPTION  IN  CONGRESS         109 

obtain  loans  of  money  from  the  railway  which  traversed 
his  territory  under  the  promise  that  he  would  use  his 
constitutional  powers  in  its  favour ;  and  members  of 
Congress  were  accustomed  to  buy,  or  try  to  buy,  land 
belonging  to  a  railway  company  at  less  than  the  market 
price,  in  consideration  of  the  services  they  could  ren- 
der to  the  line  in  the  House.  It  was  clearly  shown 
that,  in  one  case  within  the  last  twenty  years,  a  large 
portion  of  a  sum  of  $4,818,000,  which  was  expended 
by  a  single  railway,  was  used  for  the  purpose  *  of  in- 
fluencing legislation/  The  letters  of  the  director  who 
managed  the  case  of  this  railway  have  been  published, 
and  show  that  he  found  members  of  both  Houses  fully 
amenable  to  corruption.  '  I  think,^  writes  this  gentle- 
man in  1878,  '  in  all  the  world's  history,  never  before 
was  such  a  wild  set  of  demagogues  honoured  by  the 
name  of  Congress.' 

It  is,  of  course,  inevitable  that  only  a  small  propor- 
tion of  transactions  of  this  kind  should  be  disclosed. 
These  cases  are  merely  samples,  probably  representing 
many  others.  A  great  additional  amount  of  direct  cor- 
ruption is  connected  with  the  enormous  distribution  of 
patronage  in  the  hands  of  members  of  Congress.  There 
are  about  120,000  Federal  Civil  Service  places,  and  an 
important  part  of  each  member's  business  is  to  distrib- 
ute such  places  among  his  constituents.  It  is  easy  to 
imagine  how  such  patronage  would  be  administered  by 
such  men  as  have  been  described. 

Mr.  Bryce,  however,  is  of  opinion  that  there  is 
much  prevalent  exaggeration  about  American  corrup- 
tion, and  that  Europeans  are  very  unduly  shocked  by 
it.  This  is  partly  the  fault  of  Americans,  who  have 
'  an  airy  way  of  talking  about  their  own  country,'  and 
love  *  broad  effects.'  It  is  partly,  also,  due  to  the 
malevolence  of  European  travellers,  *who,   generally 


110  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  i, 

belonging  to  the  wealthier  class,  are  generally  reaction- 
ary in  politics/  and  therefore  not  favourable  to  demo- 
cratic government.  Englishmen,  he  thinks,  are  very 
unphilosophical.  They  have  '  a  useful  knack  of  forget- 
ting their  own  shortcomings  when  contemplating  those 
of  their  neighbours.'  'Derelictions  of  duty  which  a 
man  thinks  trivial  in  the  form  with  which  custom 
has  made  him  familiar  in  his  own  country,  where, 
perhaps,  they  are  matter  for  merriment,  shock  him 
when  they  appear  in  a  different  form  in  another  coun- 
try. They  get  mixed  up  m  his  mind  with  venality, 
and  are  cited  to  prove  that  the  country  is  corrupt  and 
its  politicians  profligate.'  In  the  proceedings  of  Con- 
gress, Mr.  Bryce  says,  '  it  does  not  seem,  from  what 
one  hears  on  the  spot,  that  money  is  often  given,  or,  I 
should  rather  say,  it  seems  that  the  men  to  whom  it  is 
given  are  few  in  number.  But  considerations  of  some 
kind  pretty  often  pass.'  In  other  words,  not  actual 
money,  but  the  value  of  money,  and  jobs  by  which 
money  can  be  got,  are  usually  employed. 

Senators  are  often  charged  with  '  buying  themselves 
into  the  Senate,'  but  Mr.  Bryce  does  not  think 
that  they  often  give  direct  bribes  to  the  members 
of  the  State  legislature  to  vote  for  them.  They  only 
make  large  contributions  to  the  party  election  fund, 
out  of  which  the  election  expenses  of  the  majority 
are   defrayed.^     'Bribery   exists  in   Congress,    but  is 


'  I  may  here  quote  the  words  speeches  of  Webster,  and  Cal- 

of  Mr.  Wlilte,  whose  authority  houn,   and   Clay,  and  Sumner, 

on  such   a  question  is   at  least  and  Seward,   and  Everett,  that 

equal  to  that  of  Mr.  Bryce  : —  great     commonwealths      would 

'  I  am  not  at  all  disposed  to  ac-  arise    in   wliieh   United  States' 

cept  the    prevalent  cant   about  senatorships  would  be  virtually 

corruption;    but    suppose    that  put   up   to   the   highest    bidder 

any  one  had  told  us  in  our  col-  term    after   term,   until  such  a 

lege  days,  as  we  pondered  the  mode  of  securing  a  position  in 


CH.  I.  CORRUPTION  IN  CONGRESS  111 

confined  to  a  few  members,  say  5  per  cent,  of  the  whole 
number.  .  .  .  The  taking  of  other  considerations 
than  money,  such  as  a  share  in  a  lucrative  contract,  or 
a  railway  pass,  or  a  "  good  thing "  to  be  secured  for  a 
friend,  prevails  among  legislators  to  a  somewhat  larger 
extent.  .  .  .  One  may  roughly  conjecture  that  from 
15  to  20  per  cent,  of  the  members  of  Congress,  or  of 
an  average  State  legislature,  would  allow  themselves  to 
be  influenced  by  inducements  of  this  kind.  .  .  .  Job- 
bery of  various  kinds,  i.e.  the  misuse  of  a  public  posi- 
tion for  the  benefit  of  individuals,  is  pretty  frequent. 
It  is  often  disguised  as  a  desire  to  render  some  service 
to  the  party  ;  and  the  same  excuse  is  sometimes  found 
for  a  misappropriation  of  public  money.  Patronage 
is  usually  dispensed  with  a  view  to  party  considera- 
tions or  to  win  personal  support.  But  this  remark  is 
equally  true  of  England  and  France,  the  chief  differ- 
ence being  that,  owing  to  the  short  terms  and  frequent 
removals,  the  quantity  of  patronage  is  relatively  greater 
in  the  United  States.' 

On  the  whole,  Mr.  Bryce  concludes,  if  '  we  leave 
ideals  out  of  sight,  and  try  America  by  an  actual 
standard,  we  shall  find  that  while  the  legislative  bodies 
fall  below  the  level  of  purity  maintained  in  England 
and  Germany,  probably  also  in  France  and  Italy,  her 
Federal  and  State  Administration,  in  spite  of  the  evils 
flowing  from  an  uncertain  tenure,  is  not,  in  point  of 
integrity,  at  this  moment  sensibly  inferior  to  the  Ad- 
ministrations of  European  countries.'^ 

This  judgment  certainly  does  not  err  on  the  side  of 
severity.  If  in  England  a  great  admirer  of  our  parlia- 
mentary institutions,    while   boasting   that   no  Prime 


our   highest  council  would    be      teenth  Centtury  to  the  Twentieth, 

looked    upon    as    natural    and      p.  14). 

normal ! '  {Message  of  the  Nine-  »  Bryce,  ii.  509-25. 


112  DEMOCRACY  AND   LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

Minister  Tiad  been  seriously  charged  with  pecuniary 
corruption,  and  that  no  Cabinet  Minister  had  been 
known  for  the  last  forty  years  to  have  taken  money  as 
a  bribe,  was  obliged  to  add  that  several  Cabinet  Minis- 
ters of  both  parties  in  the  State  were  suspected  of 
complicity  in  railroad  jobs  and  frauds  on  the  revenue ; 
that  the  whole  of  that  vast  department  of  legislation 
which  affects  the  interests  of  corporations  and  manu- 
factures was  systematically  managed,  or  at  least  influ- 
enced, by  corruption  ;  that  about  5  per  cent,  of  the 
members  of  both  Houses  of  Parliament  were  accus- 
tomed to  take  direct  money  bribes ;  that  one  in  every 
five  or  six  members  was  pretty  certainly  open  to  cor- 
rupt jobs,  while  suspicion  of  dishonesty  of  some  kind 
attached  to  a  much  larger  number,  we  should  scarcely, 
I  think,  consider  our  parliamentary  government  a  suc- 
cess. 

Many  of  the  causes  of  the  vices  of  American  govern- 
ment are  inherent  in  democracy,  but  there  are  two  ag- 
gravating causes  which  I  have  not  mentioned.  The 
rule  that  the  person  elected  to  either  House  of  Con- 
gress must  be  a  resident  in  the  State  for  which  he  sits 
abridges  greatly  the  choice  of  able  and  efficient  men, 
and  much  strengthens  the  power  of  the  local  machine  ; 
while  the  large  salaries  attached  to  the  position  of 
senator  or  representative  make  it — even  apart  from  its 
many  indirect  advantages — an  object  of  keen  ambition 
to  the  professional  politician.  Members  of  each  House 
have  a  salary  of  1,000^.  a  year,  besides  some  small  al- 
lowance for  travelling  and  other  expenses.  In  1873, 
the  two  Houses  passed  an  Act  increasing  many  official 
salaries  and  adding  a  third  to  their  own  salaries,  and, 
by  a  curiously  characteristic  provision,  the  congres- 
sional salaries,  and  these  alone,  were  made  retroactive. 
The  appropriation,  however,    by   Congress  of  nearly 


CH.  I.  PUBLIC  OPINION  ON  CORRUPTION  113 

40,000Z.  to  itself  excited  so  much  indignation  that  it 
was  repealed  in  the  next  Congress.^ 

The  members  of  the  House  of  Eepresentatives  sit 
only  for  two  years,  which  probably  adds  something  to 
the  desire  for  speedy  gain.  At  the  same  time,  it  ap- 
pears certain  that  the  Federal  Government  is  less  deep- 
ly tainted  with  corruption  than  a  large  proportion  of 
the  State  legislatures,  far  less  deeply  than  the  Govern- 
ments of  nearly  all  the  more  important  towns. 

There  is  one  thing  which  is  worse  than  corruption. 
It  is  acquiescence  in  corruption.  No  feature  of  Amer- 
ican life  strikes  a  stranger  so  powerfully  as  the  extraor- 
dinary indifference,  partly  cynicism  and  partly  good 
nature,  with  which  notorious  frauds  and  notorious  cor- 
ruption in  the  sphere  of  politics  are  viewed  by  Amer- 
ican public  opinion.  There  is  nothing,  I  think,  alto- 
gether like  this  to  be  found  in  any  other  great  country. 
It  is  something  wholly  different  from  the  political  tor- 
por which  is  common  in  half-developed  nations  and 
corrupt  despotisms,  and  it  is  curiously  unlike  the  state 
of  feeling  which  exists  in  the  French  Eepublic.  Fla- 
grant instances  of  corruption  have  been  disclosed  in 
France  since  1870,  but  French  public  opinion  never 
fails  promptly  to  resent  and  to  punish  them.  In  Amer- 
ica, notorious  profligacy  in  public  life  and  in  the  admin- 
istration of  public  funds  seems  to  excite  little  more 
than  a  disdainful  smile.  It  is  treated  as  very  natural 
— as  the  normal  result  of  the  existing  form  of  govern- 
ment. 

I  imagine  that  most  persons  who  formed  their  opin- 
ions, as  historians  are  apt  to  do,  mainly  by  the  exam- 
ples of  the  past  would  judge  very  unfavourably  the 
prospects  of  a  country  where  there  was  so  much  cor- 


'  Bryce,  i.  259-61. 

VOL.   I. 


114  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

ruption  and  so  much  toleration  of  corruption  in  public 
life.  The  words  of  Jugurtha  might  well  rise  to  their 
lips  :  '  Urbem  venalem,  et  mature  perituram  si  empto- 
rem  invenerit ! '  They  would  be  inclined  to  conclude 
that,  if  the  United  States  escaped  great  perils  from  with- 
out, this  was  mainly  due  to  its  extraordinarily  advan- 
tageous position,  and  that  internally  it  presented  in  a 
very  marked  degree  the  signs  of  moral  dissolution  which 
portend  the  decadence  of  nations.  I  believe,  however, 
that  the  best  judges,  who  are  well  acquainted  with 
America,  would  concur  in  believing  that  such  a  judg- 
ment would  be  fallacious.  America  illustrates  even 
more  clearly  than  France  the  truth  which  I  have  al- 
ready laid  down,  and  which  will  again  and  again  reap- 
pear in  these  volumes — that  pure  democracy  is  one  of 
the  least  representative  of  governments.  In  hardly 
any  other  country  does  the  best  life  and  energy  of  the 
nation  flow  so  habitually  apart  from  politics.  Hardly 
any  other  nation  would  be  more  grossly  misjudged  if 
it  were  mainly  judged  by  its  politicians  and  its  politi- 
cal life.'     It  seems  a  strange  paradox  that  a  nation 


'  The   following  remarks   of  to  watch  the  people  who  make 

Mr.  Oilman  appear  to  me  well  a  profession  of  running  the  po- 

worthy    of     attention : — '  Only  litical  machine.     His  own  pri- 

one   who   has    lived    for   some  vate  business,  with  which  Gov- 

time  in  tlie  United  States,  and  ernment  as  a  rule  has  little  to 

has  had  considerable  experience  do,  tends  to  absorb  his  thoughts, 

of  the  actual  workings  of  Amer-  He  even  prefers  too  often  to  be 

ican   political  institutions,   will  heavily  taxed  in   direct  conse- 

sufficiently  realise  the  force  of  quence  of  political  corruption, 

the    curious   contrast    between  rather  than   to   take    the   time 

"  the  people  "  and   "  the  poll-  from  his  private  affairs  which 

ticians."     It  is  purely  in  imag-  would  be  needed  to  overthrow 

ination  or  theory  that  the  pol-  the  machine  and  keep  it  in  per- 

iticians  are  faithful  representa-  manent   exile  '   {The  American 

tives  of  the  people.     The  busy.  Spirit  of  Socialism^  pp.  178-79). 

"driving"  American  citizen  is  I  may  add  the  judgment  of  one 

apt  to  feel  that  he  has  no  time  of  the  most  serious  and  impar- 


CH.  I.  CAUSES  OP  AMERICAN  CORRUPTION  115 

which  stands  in  the  very  foremost  rank  in  almost  all 
the  elements  of  a  great  industrial  civilisation,  which 
teems  with  energy,  intelligence  and  resource,  and  which 
exhibits  in  many  most  important  fields  a  level  of  moral 
excellence  that  very  few  European  countries  have  at- 
tained, should  permit  itself  to  be  governed,  and  repre- 
sented among  the  nations,  in  the  manner  I  have  de- 
scribed. How  strange  it  is,  as  an  Italian  statesman 
once  said,  that  a  century  which  has  produced  the  tele- 
graph and  the  telephone,  and  has  shown  in  ten  thou- 
sand forms  such  amazing  powers  of  adaptation  and 
invention,  should  have  discovered  no  more  successful 
methods  of  governing  mankind  !  The  fact,  however, 
is  as  I  have  presented  it,  and  there  are  few  more  curi- 
ous inquiries  than  its  causes. 

The  foregoing  pages  will,  I  think,  have  at  least 
shown  the  chief  sources  from  which  the  corruption  has 
sprung.  To  quote  once  more  the  words  of  Mr.  Bryce  : 
'  Every  feature  of  the  machine  is  the  result  of  patent 
causes.  The  elective  offices  are  so  numerous  that  or- 
dinary citizens  cannot  watch  them,  and  cease  to  care 
who  gets  them  ;  the  conventions  come  so  often  that 
busy  men  cannot  serve  in  them  ;  the  minor  offices  are 
so  unattractive  that  able  men  do  not  stand  for  them. 
The  primary  lists  are  so  contrived  that  only  a  fraction 
of  the  party  get  on  them,  and  of  this  fraction  many  are 
too  lazy,  or  too  busy,  or  too  careless  to  attend.  The 
mass  of  the  voters  are  ignorant ;  knowing  nothing 
about  the  personal  merits  of  the  candidates,  they  are 


tial  of  American  historians  : —  States.     The  one  is  lower  than 

'It  is  certain  that  in  no  Teu-  it  was  in  1860;  the  other,  incon- 

tonic  nation  of  our  day  is  the  sistent  as  it  may  seem,  is  higher ' 

difference    so  marked   between  {Rhodca's  I/isiory  of  the  United 

the  public  and  private  standards  States  from  the  Compromiee  of 

of  morality   as  in   the    United  1850,  iii.  113). 


116  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

ready  to  follow  their  leaders  like  sheep.  Even  the  bet- 
ter class,  however  they  may  grumble,  are  swayed  by 
the  inveterate  habit  of  party  loyalty,  and  prefer  a  bad 
candidate  of  their  own  party  to  a  (probably  no  better) 
candidate  of  the  other  party.  It  is  less  trouble  to  put 
up  with  impure  officials,  costly  city  governments,  a 
jobbing  State  legislature,  an  inferior  sort  of  Congress- 
man, than  to  sacrifice  one's  own  business  in  the  effort 
to  set  things  right.  Thus  the  machine  works  on,  and 
grinds  out  places,  power,  and  the  opportunities  of  il- 
licit gain  to  those  who  manage  it.'  ^ 

These  things,  however,  would  not  be  acquiesced  in 
if  it  were  not  that  an  admirable  written  Constitution, 
enforced  by  a  powerful  and  vigilant  Supreme  Court, 
had  restricted  to  small  limits  the  possibilities  of  mis- 
government.  All  the  rights  that  men  value  the  most 
are  placed  beyond  the  reach  of  a  tyrannical  majority. 
Congress  is  debarred  by  the  Constitution  from  mak- 
ing any  law  prohibiting  the  free  exercise  of  religion, 
or  abridging  the  freedom  of  speech  and  of  the  press, 
or  the  right  of  assembly,  or  the  right  of  petition.  No 
person  can  be  deprived  of  life,  liberty,  or  property 
without  due  process  of  law.  All  the  main  articles 
of  what  British  statesmen  would  regard  as  necessary 
liberties  are  guaranteed,  and  property  is  so  fenced 
round  by  constitutional  provisions  that  confiscatory 
legislation  becomes  almost  impossible.  No  private 
property  can  be  taken  for  public  use  without  just  com- 
pensation, and  the  Federal  Constitution  contains  an 
invaluable  provision  forbidding  any  State  to  pass  any 
law  impairing  the  obligation  of  contracts.  The  dan- 
ger of  partial  or  highly  graduated  taxation  voted  by 
the  many  and  falling  on  the  few  has  been,  in  a  great 

» Bryce,  ii.  449. 


en.  I.  RESTRICTIONS  ON  CORRUPTION  117 

measure,  guarded  against  by  the  clauses  in  the  Consti- 
tution providing  that  representatives  and  direct  taxes 
shall  be  apportioned  among  the  States  according  to 
their  population  ;  that  no  capitation  or  other  direct 
tax  shall  be  laid  unless  in  proportion  to  the  census,  and 
that  all  duties,  imposts,  and  excises  shall  be  uniform 
throughout  the  United  States.  The  judgment  of  the 
Supreme  Court  condemning  the  income-tax  in  1894 
brought  into  clear  relief  the  full  force  and  meaning  of 
these  provisions.  Neither  Congress  nor  the  State  leg- 
islatures can  pass  any  Bill  of  attainder  or  any  ex  post 
facto  law  punishing  acts  which  were  not  punishable 
when  they  were  committed. 

At  the  same  time,  the  number  and  magnitude  of  the 
majorities  that  are  required  to  effect  any  organic  change 
in  the  Federal  Constitution  are  so  great  that  such 
changes  become  almost  impossible.  They  have,  in 
fact,  never,  since  the  earliest  days  of  the  Constitution, 
been  effected  on  any  important  subject,  except  during 
the  Avholly  abnormal  period  that  immediately  followed 
the  Civil  "War,  when  the  political  independence  of  the 
Southern  States  was  for  a  time  destroyed.  The  con- 
currence of  majorities  in  two-thirds,  and  afterwards  in 
three-fourths,  of  the  States  which  is  required  for  such 
an  organic  change  becomes  more  and  more  difficult  to 
obtain  as  the  States  multiply,  with  increasing  popula- 
tion. Other  guarantees  of  good  government — very 
notably,  it  is  to  be  feared,  the  character  of  the  Senate 
— have  been  enfeebled  by  time  and  corruption  and  the 
increasing  power  of  the  machine  ;  but  this  one,  at 
least,  almost  automatically  strengthens. 

In  the  State  constitutions  the  same  system  of  checks 
prevails.  All  men,  in  the  language  of  several  of  the 
constitutions,  have  'natural,  essential,  inalienable 
rights/  and  among  them  that  of  '  enjoying  and  defend- 


118  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY  oh.  i. 

ing  their  lives  and  liberties,  and  acquiring,  possessing 
and  protecting  property.'  The  Constitution  of  Ala- 
bama expresses  admirably  the  best  spirit  of  American 
statesmanship  when  it  states  that  '  the  sole  and  only 
legitimate. end  of  government  is  to  protect  the  citizen 
in  the  enjoyment  of  life,  liberty  and  property,  and 
when  the  Government  assumes  other  functions,  it  is 
usurpation  and  oppression/  Politicians  may  job  and 
cheat  and  maladminister,  but  they  can  only  do  so 
within  narrow  limits,  and  if  the  evils  become  too  great, 
conventions  are  called,  which  impose  restrictions  on 
the  State  legislatures.  These  bodies  are  forbidden  to 
borrow  or  to  tax  beyond  certain  limits,  or  to  touch  a 
long  list  of  specified  subjects,  or  to  sit  for  more  than 
once  in  two  years  or  for  more  than  a  defined  number 
of  days.'  If  they  contrive — as  they  undoubtedly  do — 
to  heap  up  a  great  deal  of  corrupt  expenditure  within 
these  limits,  the  more  respectable  class  consider  that 
the  country  is  very  rich,  and  can  afford  it,  and  that  it 
is  better  to  allow  this  corruption  to  go  on  than  to  give 
up  private  business  to  prevent  it.  A  curious  kind  of 
optimism  also  prevails  largely  in  America.  It  is  be- 
lieved that,  provided  the  most  important  things  are 
secured,  it  is  better  to  allow  every  one  to  vote  and  or- 
ganise as  he  pleases ;  that  there  will  ultimately  be  a 
survival  of  the  fittest ;  that  in  course  of  time,  and  after 
prolonged  and  costly  experiences,  the  turbid  element 
of  corruption  will  clarify,  and  its  worst  constituents 
sink  like  sediment  to  the  bottom. 

Another  consideration,  which  has  hardly,  I  think, 
been  sufficiently  recognised  among  the  guiding  influ- 
ences of  American  politics,  is  the  complete  separation 


'  See,  e.g.^  the  long  and  curious  list  of  the  limitations  imposed 
on  the  Pennsylyanian  Legislature  in  Ford  (i.  32-35). 


CH.  I.  THE  WAR  GP  SECESSION  119 

of  Church  and  State.  American  writers,  probably  with 
good  reason,  consider  this  one  of  the  great  successes  of 
their  government.  In  spite  of  the  Episcopal  Church 
establishment  that  once  existed  in  Virginia,  and  the 
intensely  theocratic  character  which  New  England 
Governments  for  a  long  time  presented,  the  idea  of  the 
connection  of  Church  and  State  did  not  strike  root  in 
America,  and  public  opinion,  within  as  well  as  without 
the  Churches,  seems  cordially  to  approve  of  the  separa- 
tion. But  one  consequence  has  been  to  diminish  great- 
ly the  interest  in  national  politics.  Every  one  who 
knows  England  knows  how  large  a  proportion  of  the 
best  men  who  are  interested  in  politics  are  mainly  in- 
terested in  their  ecclesiastical  aspects,  in  questions  di- 
rectly or  indirectly  connected  with  Establishment  or 
Disestablishment.  All  this  class  of  questions  is  in 
America  removed  from  the  sphere  of  politics. 

That  public  opinion  can  be  powerfully  aroused  there 
in  a  worthy  cause  no  one  will  question.  Nowhere  in 
the  present  century  has  it  acquired  a  greater  volume 
and  momentum  than  in  the  War  of  Secession.  The 
self-sacrifice,  the  unanimity,  the  tenacity  of  purpose, 
the  indomitable  courage  displayed  on  each  side  by  the 
vast  citizen  armies  in  that  long  and  terrible  struggle, 
form  one  of  the  most  splendid  pages  in  nineteenth- 
century  history.  I  can  well  recollect  how  Laurence 
Oliphant,  who  had  excellent  means  of  judging  both 
wars,  was  accustomed  to  say  that  no  fighting  in  the 
Franco-German  "War  was  comparable  to  the  tenacity 
with  which  in  America  every  village,  almost  every 
house,  was  defended  or  assailed  ;  and  the  appalling 
sacrifice  of  life  during  the  struggle  goes  far  to  justify 
this  judgment.  Nor  were  the  nobler  qualities  of  the 
American  people  less  clearly  manifested  by  the  sequel 
of  the  war.     The   manner   in  which    those  gigantic 


120  DEMOCRACY  AND   LIBERTY  ch.  l 

armies  melted  away  into  the  civil  population,  casting 
aside,  without  apparent  effort,  all  military  tastes  and 
habits,  and  throwing  themselves  into  the  vast  fields  of 
industry  that  were  opened  by  the  peace,  forms  one  of 
the  most  striking  spectacles  in  history  ;  and  the  noble 
humanity  shown  to  the  vanquished  enemy  is  a  not  less 
decisive  proof  of  the  high  moral  level  of  American 
opinion.  It  was  especially  admirable  in  the  very  try- 
ing moments  that  followed  the  assassination  of  Lin- 
coln, and  it  forms  a  memorable  contrast  to  the  extreme 
vindictiveness  displayed  by  their  forefathers,  in  the 
days  of  the  Kevolution,  towards  their  loyalist  fellow- 
countrymen.  America  rose  at  this  time  to  a  new  place 
and  dignity  in  the  concert  of  nations.  Europe  had 
long  seen  in  her  little  more  than  an  amorphous,  ill- 
cemented  industrial  population.  It  now  learned  to 
recognise  the  true  characteristics  of  a  great  nation. 
There  was  exaggeration,  but  there  was  also  no  little 
truth,  in  the  words  of  Lowell : 

Earth's  biggest  country  got  her  soul, 
And  risen  up  Earth's  greatest  nation. 

Jobbing  and  corruption  and  fraud  flourished,  indeed, 
abundantly  during  the  war,  but  the  lines  of  national 
greatness  and  genuine  patriotism  were  far  more  con- 
spicuous. In  times  of  peace,  no  nation  has  ever  been 
more  distinguished  than  America  for  the  generosity 
shown  by  her  citizens  in  supporting  public  institutions 
and  public  causes. 

Her  treatment  of  her  gigantic  debt  was  also  a  great 
surprise  to  Europe.  It  was  a  common  prediction 
among  shrewd  Judges  that  the  peace  would  speedily  be 
followed  by  national  bankruptcy,  and  that  a  democratic 
nation  would  never  endure  the  burden  of  a  national 
debt  which  was  at  that  time  by  far  the  largest  in  the 


CH.  I.  PAYMENT  OP  THE  NATIONAL  DEBT  121 

world.  Hardly  any  one  appears  to  have  foreseen  that 
this  democracy  would  surpass  all  the  monarchies  in 
history  in  its  unparalleled  persevering  and  successful 
efforts  to  pay  off  its  debt.  It  is  true  that  its  motives 
in  doing  so  were  far  from  being  purely  patriotic  and 
disinterested.  The  payment  of  the  debt  was  indis- 
solubly  connected  with  the  adoption  of  a  system  of  se- 
vere Protection.  Manufacturers  by  such  Protection 
made  colossal  fortunes.  The  working  class  in  Ame- 
rica seem  to  have  very  generally  adopted  the  opinion 
that  a  protective  system,  by  raising  the  price  of  the 
articles  they  make  and  excluding  similar  articles  made 
in  other  countries,  has  an  effect,  in  raising  wag6s  and 
increasing  employment,  which  is  very  beneficial  to  their 
interests.  Multitudes  of  Americans  in  the  Northern 
States  had  purchased  national  bonds  at  a  time  when 
they  were  greatly  depreciated,  and  they  gained  enor- 
mously by  being  paid  off  at  par.  At  the  time  when 
the  policy  of  paying  off  the  debt  was  adopted,  the  section 
of  the  country  where  these  bonds  were  exclusively  held, 
where  Protection  was  always  most  popular,  and  where 
manufacturers  chiefly  existed,  had  acquired,  through 
the  war,  a  complete  ascendency.  These  things  do  much 
to  explain  the  course  that  was  adopted,  but  it  was  a 
course  which  involved  sacrifices  that  few  nations  could 
have  endured,  and  it  Avas  carried  out  with  an  energy 
and  perseverance  that  no  nation  could  have  surpassed. 

The  general  legislation  in  America  also  ranks  very 
high.  Many  of  the  worst  abuses  of  British  law  either 
never  existed  there,  or  were  redressed  at  a  much  earlier 
period  than  in  England.  Her  penal  code,  her  educa- 
tional laws,  her  laws  about  the  sale  and  transfer  of 
landed  property,  were  for  a  long  period  far  better  than 
those  of  Grreat  Britain  ;  and  the  fact  that  no  religious 
disqualifications  were  recognised  saved  her  from  strug- 


122  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

gles  that  have  largely  occupied  many  generations  of 
English  reformers.  I  do  not  think  that,  in  modern 
times,  legislation  has  been  better  or  the  spirit  of  Re- 
form more  active  in  the  republic  than  in  the  monarchy, 
but  I  believe  the  best  observers  on  both  sides  of  the 
Atlantic  recognise  the  two  systems  as  substantially  on 
the  same  plane  of  excellence,  though  each  country  may 
learn  many  things  from  the  other.  The  American 
type  of  legislator  is  eminently  shrewd,  businesslike, 
and  free  from  prejudice,  and  he  is  quite  prepared  to 
make  good  laws,  as  long  as  they  do  not  affect  inju- 
riously his  personal  and  party  interests.  Public  opinion 
insists  on  this,  and  it  makes,  as  we  have  seen,  occa- 
sional spasmodic  efforts  to  diminish  the  great  corrup- 
tion of  American  jjolitical  life. 

America,  during  the  last  three  quarters  of  the  nine- 
teenth century,  has  changed  greatly.  It  is  very  differ- 
ent from  the  country  which  Dickens  and  Mrs.  Trollope 
described,  and  even  the  great  work  of  Tocqueville  oc- 
casionally wears  an  aspect  of  some  unreality.  The 
population  of  the  United  States  has  quadrupled  since 
Tocqueville  visited  it,  and  it  is  not  surprising  that  many 
conditions  should  have  been  changed  and  some  predic- 
tions falsified.  Tocqueville  believed  much  more  in  the 
permanence  of  republican  institutions  in  America  than 
in  the  permanence  of  the  Union.  He  predicted  very 
confidently  that  the  power  of  the  Federal  Government 
would  steadily  decline  and  the  power  of  the  separate 
States  increase ;  that  any  serious  resistance  of  the 
States  to  the  Federal  Union  must  certainly  succeed  ; 
that  the  Union  would  only  endure  as  long  as  all  the 
States  continued  to  wish  to  form  part  of  it.^     The  War 


'  Democratie  en  Amerique,  ii.  war,  or  a  great  internal  crisis, 
351-55,  383-85.  He  suggests,  might  possibly  arrest  this  ten- 
bowever    in  one    place  that  a      denoy  (p.  398). 


CH.  L  TOCQUEVILLE  123 

of  the  Secession  showed  that  he  was  mistaken,  and  it 
produced  for  some  years  a  strong  tendency  in  the  di- 
rection of  centralisation. 

In  many  respects,  however,  he  judged  with  singular 
accuracy  both  the  dangers  and  the  tendencies  of  Ame- 
rican political  life.  He  deplored  the  custom,  which  had 
already  begun  in  his  time,  of  making  the  judges  elective. 
He  predicted  that  the  habit  of  treating  representatives 
as  mere  delegates  bound  by  imperative  instructions 
would  destroy  the  essence  of  representative  government. 
He  dwelt  with  much  perspicuity  on  the  dangers  in  a 
pure  democracy  of  the  multiplication  of  great  towns  ; 
on  the  gradual  displacement  of  power  which  would  fol- 
low the  rise  of  new  territories  eclipsing  or  superseding 
the  old  States  ;  on  the  moral  and  ;^olitical  effects  of 
slavery,  and  of  the  increase  of  the  negro  race  ;  on  the 
deep  and  menacing  line  of  division  which  the  combined 
influence  of  slavery  and  climate,  and  the  resulting 
difference  of  character  and  habits  were  drawing  be- 
tween the  Northern  and  the  Southern  States.  He  im- 
agined, indeed,  that  slavery  would  make  it  the  special 
interest  of  the  latter  to  cling  to  the  Union,  as  they  had 
every  reason  to  fear  the  consequences  if  they  were  left 
alone  with  their  negroes  ;  but  he  doubted  whether 
this  bond  of  interest  would  prove  ultimately  as 
strong  as  the  antagonism  of  sentiment.  The  system 
of  party  in  America  he  never  seems  to  have  clearly 
understood,  and  he  altogether  failed  to  foresee  the 
enormous  power  and  the  corrupting  influence  of  '  the 
Machine.' 

The  America  he  described  was,  in  some  respects, 
very  unlike  that  of  our  own  day.  He  speaks  of  a  des- 
potism of  opinion  which  prevented  all  free  expression 
of  independent,  eccentric,  or  heretical  ideas  ;  of  Ame- 
rican dislike  to  general  ideas  and  theoretical  discover- 


124  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  en.  i. 

ies  ;  of  a  jealousy  of  wealth  which  compelled  rich  men, 
like  the  Jews  of  the  Middle  Ages,  to  abstain  from  all 
the  ostentation  of  luxury.  These  things  are  wholly 
changed.  America  is  no  longer  a  country  without 
pauperism  and  without  great  wealth.  It  contains  some 
of  the  largest  fortunes  in  the  world.  American  wealth 
is  certainly  by  no  means  averse  to  ostentation,  and  is 
rather  peculiarly  apt  to  take  forms  that  are  dangerous 
and  injurious  to  the  community.  We  are  accustomed 
to  hear,  in  some  quarters,  the  enormous  landed  proper- 
ties possessed  by  a  few  English  landlords  described  as 
a  great  evil  ;  but  as  long  as  those  who  wish  to  buy 
land,  or  to  take  land  on  a  long  lease,  have  no  difficulty 
in  doing  so,  it  is  not  easy  to  see  what  real  interest  is 
seriously  injured.  The  power  the  great  landlord  pos- 
sesses may,  no  doubt,  be  abused  ;  but  great  abuse  is 
neither  easy  nor  common,  while  the  benefits  resulting 
to  the  nation  from  the  existence  of  this  class  are  real 
and  evident.  But,  of  all  forms  that  great  wealth  can 
take,  I  know  of  none  that  lends  itself  to  greater  or 
more  scandalous  abuse  than  that  of  the  railway  king, 
who  controls  for  his  own  selfish  purposes  the  chief  lines 
of  communication  in  the  country.  In  no  Dther  country 
has  this  class  of  men  been  so  prominent  as  in  America, 
and  in  no  other  has  their  power  been  more  hide- 
ously abused.  Nowhere  else  have  there  been  so  many 
conspicuous  examples  of  colossal,  ostentatious  fortunes 
built  up  by  reckless  gambling,  by  the  acquisition  of 
gigantic  monopolies,  by  a  deadly  and  unscrupulous 
competition  bringing  ruin  into  countless  homes,  by  a 
systematic  subordination  of  public  to  private  interests, 
by  enormous  political  and  municipal  corruption.  If 
such  men  as  Lincoln,  and  Emerson,  and  Lowell  have, 
in  our  generation,  represented  with  supreme  perfection 
the  distinctive  beauty  of  the  American  type,  such  a 


CH.  r.  AMERICAN  RAILROADS  AND  TRUSTS  125 

career  as  that  of  Jay  Gould  has,  in  its  own  way,  been 
not  less  truly  characteristic. 

Integrity  in  the  management  of  great  companies  and 
corporations  is  certainly  not,  in  these  latter  days,  a 
characteristic  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  race  on  either  side  of 
the  Atlantic,  but  I  believe  it  is  even  less  so  in  America 
than  in  England,  The  contrast  between  the  manage- 
ment of  railways  in  England  and  in  the  United  States 
is  extremely  significant.  America  is  now  one  of  the 
richest  countries  in  the  world,  and  its  people  have  cer- 
tainly no  superiors  in  business  talent.  Yet  it  has  been 
stated  on  excellent  authority  that,  in  the  fifteen  years 
between  1875  and  1890,  the  aggregate  foreclosure  sales 
on  the  railways  of  the  United  States  comprised  50,525 
miles,  with  13,865,000,000  of  combined  stocks  and 
bonds,  or  an  average  of  1191,000,000  per  annum.  In 
1890,  twenty-nine  companies  were  subject  to  foreclosure 
sales.  ^  A  great  railway  authority,  speaking  in  the  be- 
ginning of  1894,  said  :  '  There  is  no  less  than  one- 
fourth  of  the  American  railways  in  extent  of  mileage 
and  capital  now  under  the  control  of  the  courts  of 
law,  and  during  the  year  1893  alone  seventy-four  rail- 
way companies  including  a  mileage  of  30,000  miles  and 
a  capital  of  360  millions  sterling,  passed  into  the  hands 
of  receivers.^'  Making  the  fullest  allowance  for  trade 
depressions  and  vicissitudes,  and  for  currency  troubles, 
what  an  amount  of  gigantic  and  deliberate  dishonesty, 
as  well  as  unscrupulous  gambling,  does  such  a  state  of 
things  represent !  The  system  of  monopolising  articles 
of  the  first  necessity,  under  the  name  of  Trusts,  in 
order  to  force  up  their  price,  which  is  one  of  the  most 


'  North    American     Review^  at  a  meeting  of  the  Grand  Trunk 

1891,  p.  84;  see,  too,  Professor  Railway    Company,   April    30, 

Ely's  Socialism,  pp.  270-71.  1894,  p.  4. 

» Speech  of  Sir  Henry  Tyler 


126  DEMOCRACY  AND   LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

mischievons  forms  thaf  modern  industry  has  assumed, 
has  been  especially  American,  and  the  origin  of  some 
of  the  greatest  American  fortunes. 

These  evils  are  certainly  not  unconnected  with  poli- 
tical conditions.  In  a  country  where  there  is  no  rank, 
and  where  political  eminence  gives  little  or  no  dignity, 
the  thirst  for  wealth  acquires  a  maddening  power.  Cor- 
rupt political  organisations  come  in  constant  contact 
with  great  railway  and  industrial  corporations,  and 
each  can  do  much  to  assist  and  to  demoralise  the 
other.  Even  independently  of  these  mutual  services, 
there  is  an  analogy  between  the  two  things.  To  run  a 
company  is  very  like  running  the  machine,  and  the 
low  standard  which  public  opinion  admits  in  the  one 
is,  not  unnaturally,  extended  to  the  other. 

Slavery  has  passed  away  in  America,  and  with  it  one 
great  blot  and  danger  has  disappeared  ;  but  the  negro 
race,  with  its  doubtful  future,  remains.  The  character 
of  the  constituencies  has  been  profoundly  lowered  by 
the  negro  voters,  and  the  extraordinary  prevalence  and 
ferocity  of  lynch  law  seems  to  show  that  the  old  habits 
of  violence  which  slavery  did  so  much  to  foster  are  by 
no  means  extinct.  A  great  improvement,  however,  has 
incontestably  taken  place  in  the  character  of  American 
foreign  policy  since  the  close  of  the  war.  The  many 
violent  and  unscrupulous  acts  that  once  marked  that 
policy  were  nearly  all  distinctly  traceable  to  the  ascend- 
ency of  Southern  statesmen.  Something  was  due  to 
the  character  of  the  men,  for  the  conditions  of  slave 
labour  produce  a  type  which  is  much  more  military 
and  adventurous  than  pacific  and  industrial.  But  the 
main  cause  was  the  imperious  necessity  imposed  on 
these  States  of  acquiring  new  slave  territories,  in  order 
to  counteract  the  increasing  preponderance  which  in- 
creasing population  was  giving  to  the  Northern  States, 


en.  I.  AMERICAN   CIVILISATION  127 

and  thus  secure  their  share  of  power  in  the  Union. 
This  was  the  origin  of  the  annexation  of  Texas  ;  of  the 
conquest  of  New  Mexico  and  California  ;  of  the  fili- 
bustering expedition  of  General  Lopez  against  Cuba  in 
1851  ;  of  the  unscrupulous  attempts  to  force  a  quarrel 
upon  Spain  in  1854,  in  order  to  find  a  pretext  for  seiz- 
ing Cuba  ;  of  the  shameless  Ostend  manifesto,  in  which 
American  ministers  declared  their  determination  to 
acquire  Cuba  by  force  if  they  could  not  do  so  by  pur- 
chase ;  of  the  countenance  that  was  given  to  the  fili- 
bustering expedition  of  William  Walker  to  Nicaragua 
in  1857 ;  of  the  renewed  attempts  to  acquire  Cuba  in 
1858  and  1859.  Since  the  question  of  secession  has  been 
settled  this  spirit  of  aggression  seems  to  have  wholly 
passed  out  of  American  foreign  policy.  There  have 
been  occasions  when  American  statesmen,  in  order  to 
win  the  favour  of  some  class  of  voters,  have  shown  a 
disregard  of  the  courtesies  and  decorum  of  international 
dealings  which  no  European  country  would  have  dis- 
played, but  in  the  great  lines  of  her  foreign  policy,. 
America  has  of  late  years  been  in  general  eminently 
honourable  and  unaggressive.  It  is  no  small  thing  that 
this  vast  section  of  the  human  race,  so  rich  in  the 
promise  of  the  future,  has  wholly  escaped  the  milita- 
rism that  is  corroding  the  greatest  Powers  of  Europe, 
and  that  its  gigantic  energies  have  been  steadily  directed 
in  the  paths  of  peace. 

The  feature  of  American  civilisation  which  has  most 
struck  European  observers  has  been  its  exceedingly  one- 
sided character.  It  is  a  supremely  great  industrial 
civilisation,  generating  to  the  highest  degree  the  quali- 
ties, capacities  and  inventions  that  are  needed  for  in- 
dustrial life,  and  bringing  in  its  train  widely  diffused 
comfort,  education  and  self-respect ;  but  there  are  cer- 
tain sides  in  which  it  still  ranks  much  below  the  civili- 


128  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

sations  of  Europe.  Tocqneville  and  his  generation  were 
much  struck  with  this.  Tocqueville  said  that  America 
had  hitherto  produced  only  a  very  small  number  of  re- 
markable writers,  that  she  had  produced,  no  great  his- 
torians, and  no  poets,  and  that  there  were  third-rate 
towns  in  Europe  which  published  in  a  year  more  works 
of  literature  than  all  the  twenty-four  States  of  Ame- 
rica.^ Mill,  writing  in  1840,  speaks  of  'the  marked 
absence  in  America  of  original  efforts  in  literature, 
philosophy,  and  the  fine  arts  ; '  ^  while  Carlyle,  a  few 
years  later,  very  roughly  declared  that  America  had 
still  her  battle  to  fight  ;  that  though  the  quantity  of 
her  cotton,  dollars,  industry  and  resources  was  almost 
unspeakable,  she  had  as  yet  produced  no  great  thought, 
or  noble  thing  that  one  could  worship  or  loyally  ad- 
mire ;  that  her  chief  feat  in  history  had  been  to  beget, 
'  with  a  rapidity  beyond  recorded  example,  eighteen 
millions  of  the  greatest  bores  ever  seen  in  this  world 
before.'^ 

This  last  judgment  is  certainly  more  remarkable  for 
its  vigour  than  for  its  judicial  impartiality.  Since 
Carlyle  wrote  America  has  produced  some  admirable 
literature ;  it  has  produced  several  considerable  histo- 
rians, some  graceful  and  justly  popular  poets,  some 
excellent  critics,  novelists  and  moralists,  and  a  vein  of 
humour  which  is  perhaps  more  distinctively  American 
than  any  other  element  in  its  literature.  It  has,  espe- 
cially, produced  some  of  the  most  beautiful  literary 
lives  in  the  whole  history  of  letters — lives  true,  simple, 
laborious  and  affectionate,  singularly  free  from  the 
jealousies  and  extravagances  that  deface  so  many  pages 
of  literary  biography,  absolutely  free  from  that  taint  of 

'  Democratie  en  ATtierique,  ii.  ^  Latter-day  Pamphlets: '  The 

233.  Present  Time.' 

*  Dissertations,  ii.  42. 


CH.  I.        PAUCITY  OF  LITERATURE  IN  AMERICA         129 

impurity  which  has  passed  so  deeply  into  the  contem- 
porary literatures  of  Europe.  But,  when  all  this  is 
said,  we  cannot  but  ask  whether  the  America  of  the 
nineteenth  century  has  produced  much  in  the  fields  of 
thought,  or  literature,  or  art  that  is  really  great ;  any- 
thing comparable  to  what  Germany  or  France  has  pro- 
duced during  the  same  period ;  anything  comparable 
to  what  might  have  been  expected  from  a  rich,  highly 
educated,  and  pacific  nation,  which  now  numbers  more 
than  sixty  millions  of  souls,  and  is  placed,  in  some  re- 
spects, in  more  favourable  circumstances  than  any 
other  nation  in  the  world.  A  curious  passage  in  an 
essay  on  Channing  which  Eenan  wrote  some  forty  years 
ago  describes  the  impression  which  American  civilisa- 
tion at  that  time  left  on  the  mind  of  one  of  the  most 
brilliant  of  Frenchmen.  '  If  it  were  necessary,^  he 
says,  '  that  Italy  with  her  past,  or  America  with  her 
future,  should  be  blotted  out  of  existence,  which  would 
leave  the  greater  void  in  the  heart  of  humanity  ?  What 
has  all  America  produced  that  can  compare  with  a  ray 
of  that  infinite  glory  that  adorns  an  Italian  town,  even 
of  the  second  or  third  order — Florence,  Pisa,  Sienna, 
Perugia  ?  Before  New  York  and  Boston  reach  in  the 
scale  of  human  greatness  a  rank  that  is  comparable  to 
these  towns,  how  many  steps  have  they  still  to  make  ! '  • 
There  is,  no  doubt,  exaggeration  in  such  language  ; 
there  are  forms  of  very  genuine  human  greatness  that 
it  fails  to  recognise.  But  it  is  impossible  not  to  feel 
that,  on  the  intellectual  and  aesthetic  side,  America 
has  not  yet  fulfilled  her  part,  and  that  an  unduly 
large  proportion  of  her  greatest  achievements  belong 
to  a  time  when  she  had  not  a  tithe  of  her  present  pop- 
ulation and  wealth.      Washington  and  Franklin  and 


•  Etvdes  d'Stsioire  Religieuse. 

VOL.  I. 


130  DEMOCRACY  AND   LIBERTY  CH.  I. 

Hamilton,  the  Constitution  of  1787,  the  Federalist 
and  the  Commentaries  of  Jndge  Story,  have  not  been 
eclipsed. 

Many  causes  have  been  assigned  for  this  intellectual 
sterility,  continuing  long  after  America  had  taken  her 
place  among  the  great  nations  of  the  world,  Tocque- 
ville  believed  that  there  was  no  country  with  less 
intellectual  independence  and  less  real  liberty  of  dis- 
cussion than  America,  or  in  which  the  expression  of 
unpopular  opinion  was  more  bitterly  resented  ;  and  he 
said  that  there  were  no  great  American  writers  because 
'  literary  genius  cannot  exist  without  liberty  of  thought, 
and  there  is  no  liberty  of  thought  in  America/^  Mill, 
expanding  another  passage  from  Tocqueville,  described 
America  as,  '  intellectually  speaking,  a  province  of 
England  —  a  province  in  which  the  great  occupation 
of  the  inhabitants  is  making  money,  because  for  that 
they  have  peculiar  facilities,  and  are,  therefore,  like 
the  people  of  Manchester  or  Birmingham,  for  the 
most  part  contented  to  receive  the  higher  branches  of 
knowledge  ready-made  from  the  capital.'^  Maine  at- 
tributed much  to  the  long  refusal  of  the  Congress  to 
grant  an  international  copyright.  The  want  of  such 
copyright  effectually  crushed  American  authorship  in 
the  Home  market  by  the  competition  of  the  unpaid 
and  appropriated  works  of  British  authors,  and  '  con- 
demned the  whole  American  community  to  a  literary 
servitude  unparalleled  in  the  history  of  thought.'^ 


'  Democi-atie  en  Amerique,  ii.  don,    but    the   intellectual    life 

149,  152.  that  produces  them  comes  from 

*  Dissertations,   ii.   43 ;  com-  all  parts  of  the  kingdom,  and  in 

pare  Tocqueville,  ii.  58.     I  do  a  very   large   degree   from  the 

not  think   Mill's    illustration  a  great  provincial  towns, 

happy  one.  Most  English  books,  ^  Maine's    Popular     Govemr 

no  doubt,  are  published  in  Lon-  ment^  p.  247. 


CH.  I.        PAUCITY  OF  LITERATURE  IN   AMERICA         131 

In  all  this  there  is  much  truth ;  but  it  must,  I 
think,  be  added  that  modern  democracy  is  not  favour- 
able to  the  higher  forms  of  intellectual  life.  Democ- 
racy levels  down  quite  as  much  as  it  levels  up.  The 
belief  in  the  equality  of  man,  the  total  absence  of  the 
spirit  of  reverence,  the  apotheosis  of  the  average  judg- 
ment, the  fever  and  the  haste,  the  advertising  and 
sensational  spirit  which  American  life  so  abundantly 
generates,  and  which  the  American  press  so  vividly  re- 
flects, are  all  little  favourable  to  the  production  of 
great  works  of  beauty  or  of  thought,  of  long  medita- 
tion, of  sober  taste,  of  serious,  uninterrupted  study. 
Such  works  have  been  produced  in  America,  but  in 
small  numbers  and  under  adverse  conditions.  The 
habit,  too,  which  has  so  long  existed  in  America,  and 
which  is  rapidly  growing  in  England,  of  treating  the 
private  lives  of  eminent  men  as  if  they  were  public 
property  ;  of  forcing  their  opinions  on  all  subjects  into 
constant  publicity  by  newspaper  interviews  ;  of  multi- 
plying demands  upon  their  time  for  public  functions 
for  which  they  have  no  special  aptitude,  adds  greatly 
to  the  evil.  Among  the  advantages  which  England  de- 
rives from  her  aristocracy,  not  the  least  is  the  service 
it  renders  to  literature  by  providing  a  class  of  men  who 
are  admirably  fitted  for  presidential  and  other  public 
functions,  which  in  another  society  would  have  been 
largely  thrown  on  men  of  letters.  No  one  can  fail  to 
observe  how  large  a  proportion  of  the  Americans  who 
have  shown  distinguished  talent  in  literature  and  art 
have  sought  in  European  life  a  more  congenial  atmos- 
phere than  they  could  find  at  home. 

In  spite  of  all  retarding  influences,  America  will,  no 
doubt,  one  day  occupy  a  far  higher  position  than  at 
present  in  the  intellectual  guidance  of  the  world.  It 
is  probable  that  the  concession  of  international  copy- 


132  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

right,  placing  American  authors  on  the  same  footing 
with  foreign  ones,  will  hasten  that  day,  and  there  are 
clear  signs  that  a  school  of  very  serious  scholarship  and 
very  excellent  writing  is  arising  among  them.  Many 
of  the  peccant  humours  of  the  body  politic  will,  no 
doubt,  be  ultimately  dispersed.  The  crudest,  most 
ignorant,  most  disorderly  elements  of  European  life 
have  been  poured  into  America  as  into  a  great  alembic, 
and  are  being  gradually  transformed  into  a  new  type. 
The  enormously  corrupting  influences  which  New 
York  and  some  other  immigration  centres  have  exer- 
cised on  American  politics  must  diminish  when  they 
cease  to  be  what  Americans  call  '  pivot  States,'  holding 
the  balance  between  rival  parties,  and  when  the  centre 
of  power  moves  onward  towards  the  west.  A  people 
supremely  endowed  with  energy  and  intelligence,  and 
among  whom  moral  and  religious  influences  are  very 
strong,  can  scarcely  fail  sooner  or  later  to  mould  their 
destinies  to  high  and  honourable  ends. 

Optimism  certainly  reigns  more  widely  in  America 
than  in  Europe,  and  Americans  are  the  best  judges 
of  their  own  institutions  and  future.  Serious  clouds 
seem  to  hang  on  their  horizon.  The  decay,  in  some 
parts  of  America,  of  family  life  through  the  excessive 
facility  of  divorce  ;  the  alarming  prevalence  of  finan- 
cial dishonesty  on  a  large  scale  ;  the  strange  and  ominous 
increase  of  ordinary  crime,  which  contrasts  remarka- 
bly with  its  steady  diminution  in  Great  Britain  ;  ^  the 
profligacy  that  still  reigns  in  political  and  municipal 
life,  and  the  indifference  with  which  that  profligacy 
is  contemplated,  afford  much  ground  for  melancholy 
thought.     It  is  contrary  to  all   past  experience  that 


'  See  on  this  subject  a  remarkable  article,  by  Mr.  Lea,  in  The 
Forum^  August  1894. 


CH.  I.  THE  POLICY  OP  PROTECTION  133 

political  corruption  should  be  a  mere  excrescence  in  a 
nation,  affecting  either  slightly  or  not  at  all  the  deeper 
springs  of  national  morals.  As  the  country  fills  up,  as 
national  expenses  increase,  as  the  problems  of  govern- 
ment become  more  difficult  and  delicate,  the  necessity 
of  placing  the  Administration  in  all  its  branches  in 
trustworthy  and  honest  hands  must  be  more  felt,  and 
the  future  of  America  seems  to  me  very  largely  to  de- 
pend upon  the  success  with  which  her  reformers  can 
attain  this  end.  Something  considerable,  as  we  have 
seen,  has  been  already  done  ;  yet  some  of  the  worst  in- 
stances of  corrupt  rings  have  been  posterior  to  the 
downfall  of  the  Tammany  rule  at  New  York,  which 
was  supposed  to  mark  the  beginning  of  a  new  era. 
The  evidence  which  was  brought  before  the  Senate  of 
New  York  in  1894,  disclosing  the  enormous  and  sys- 
tematic corruption  of  the  police  force  of  that  great 
city,  is  in  itself  sufficient  to  show  how  little  this  hope 
has  been  fulfilled.^ 

The  policy  of  Protection  in  America,  which  has 
been  carried  to  such  a  high  point  since  the  war,  is  no 
new  thing.  It  existed,  though  with  some  fluctuations, 
through  a  great  part  of  earlier  American  history  ;  ^  the 
high  duties  imposed  during  the  war  were  amply  Justi- 
fied by  the  necessity  of  obtaining  money  for  its  support, 
and  their  continuance  for  some  years  after  the  peace 
was  probably  justified  by  the  transcendent  importance 
of  reducing  rapidly  an  unparalleled  debt.  With  the 
ideas  that  are  now  fioating  through  the  world,  nothing 
could  be  more  dangerous  than  for  a  pure  democracy,  in 
times  of  difficulty  or  poverty,  to  find  itself  burdened 


'  Many  particulars  about  this  American  Protection,  see  Tans- 
will  be  found  in  The  Forum,  sig's  Tariff  History  of  the  Uni- 
August  1894.  ted  States  (New  York,  1888). 

*Oii    the    early    history    of 


134  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  en.  i. 

with  an  enormous  debt  taxation  for  the  fulfilment  of 
ancient  contracts.  The  statesmen  who  followed  the 
war  have  at  least  secured  America  from  this  danger. 
But  the  immense  increase  of  Protection,  which  began 
with  the  Woollen  Act  of  1867  and  the  Copper  Act  of 
1869,  and  which  culminated  in  the  McKinley  tariff, 
was  largely  due  to  other  motives.  If  the  best  Ameri- 
can authorities  may  be  trusted,  it  includes  as  much 
purely  class  legislation,  intended  to  support  class  inter- 
ests and  carried  by  corrupt  means,  as  can  be  found  in 
the  most  effete  monarchy  of  Europe. 

The  wonderful  surplus  which  for  many  years  existed 
in  consequence  of  the  high  protective  duties  astonished 
Europe,  but  not  more  so  than  the  manner  in  which  it 
was  expended.  I  suppose  there  is  no  page  in  the  finan- 
cial history  of  the  world  more  extraordinary  than  the 
history  of  the  American  pension  list.  At  the  close  of 
the  war  pensions  were,  very  properly,  given  to  soldiers 
who  were  disabled  in  the  course  of  it,  and  to  wives  of 
soldiers  who  had  been  married  during  the  war,  and 
who  were  left  widows.  It  was  naturally  supposed  that 
in  America,  as  elsewhere,  the  war  pensions  would 
diminish  as  time  rolled  on  and  as  the  actors  in  the 
struggle  passed  away.  For  some  years  there  seemed 
every  prospect  that  this  would  have  been  the  case ; 
and  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  it  would  have  been  so 
if  the  Protectionist  interest  had  not  found  it  necessary 
to  maintain  and  expend  an  enormous  surplus.  The 
result  of  that  necessity  is,  that  in  a  long  period  of  un- 
broken peace  a  war  pension  list  has  been  created  in  the 
United  States  which  far  exceeds  in  magnitude  any 
other  that  is  known  in  history.  Fifty-seven  years  after 
the  war  of  1812  pensions  were  voted  to  its  surviving 
soldiers  and  to  their  widows ;  thirty-nine  years  after 
the   Mexican  War  a  similar  measure  was    taken  in 


CH.  I.  THE  PENSION  LIST  135 

favour  of  the  survivors  of  that  war.  The  list  was 
made  to  include  men  who  had  been  disabled  long  after 
the  war,  and  by  causes  totally  unconnected  with  it, 
and  widows  who  had  not  been  married,  who  in  many 
cases  had  not  been  born,  when  the  last  shot  was  fired. 
Personation,  and  other  frauds  almost  grotesque  in  their 
cynicism  and  enormity,  became  notoriously  common, 
and  were  practised  with  the  most  absolute  impunity. 
Multitudes  of  young  women  formed  real  or  pretended 
connections  with  old  men  for  the  purpose  of  qualifying 
for  a  pension.  It  appears  from  official  documents 
that,  in  1893,  there  were  on  the  pension  list  165  per- 
sons pensioned  as  survivors  of  the  war  in  1812,  and 
there  were  no  less  than  6,657  women  who  were  pen- 
sioned as  widows  of  the  soldiers  in  that  war.  The 
pension  list  trebled  between  1880  and  1884.  In  1893, 
it  was  stated  that  half  a  million  of  dollars  a  day  were 
distributed  on  account  of  a  war  which  had  terminated 
nearly  thirty  years  before.  In  1893  there  were  960,- 
000  names  on  the  pension  list,  and  165  millions  of  dol- 
lars, or  thirty-three  million  pounds,  was  appropriated 
by  Congress  to  the  pension  service. 

It  is  not  surprising  that  such  an  administration  of 
public  money  should  have  produced  a  great  financial 
revulsion,  and  that  the  period  of  enormous  surpluses 
should  have  been  followed  by  a  period  of  almost  equally 
enormous  deficits.  No  other  country,  indeed,  could 
have  borne  such  an  expenditure,  and  certainly  public 
opinion  in  no  other  country  would  have  tolerated  it.^ 


•  A  great  deal  of  information  Times,   January   29,    1894.     It 

about    the   American    pensions  appears,  liowever,   that  in  the 

will  be   found   in  The  Forum,  year  ending  June  30,  1894,  the 

May  and  June,  1893,  and  in  the  expenditure  on  the  pension  list 

North  American  Review,  April  had  sunk  to  27,960,892/.  (Ttjwes, 

and  May,   1893;   see,   too,  the  October  30,  1894). 


136  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  i. 

It  would  be  perhaps  a  paradox  to  say  that  the  go- 
vernment of  a  country  which  is  so  great,  so  prosperous, 
and  so  pacific  as  the  United  States  has  not  been  a  suc- 
cess ;  but,  on  the  whole,  American  democracy  appears 
to  me  to  carry  Avith  it  at  least  as  much  of  warning  as 
of  encouragement,  especially  when  we  remember  the 
singularly  favourable  circumstances  under  which  the 
experiment  has  been  tried,  and  the  impossibility  of 
reproducing  those  conditions  at  home.  There  is  one 
point,  however,  on  which  all  the  best  observers  in 
America,  whether  they  admire  or  dislike  democracy, 
seem  agreed.  It  is,  that  it  is  absolutely  essential  to  its 
safe  working  that  there  should  be  a  written  constitu- 
tion, securing  property  and  contract,  placing  serious 
obstacles  in  the  way  of  cfrganic  changes,  restricting  the 
power  of  majorities,  and  preventing  outbursts  of  mere 
temporary  discontent  and  mere  casual  coalitions  from 
overthrowing  the  main  pillars  of  the  State.  In  Ame- 
rica, such  safeguards  are  largely  and  skilfully  provided, 
and  to  this  fact  America  mainly  owes  her  stability.  Un- 
fortunately, in  England  the  men  who  are  doing  most 
to  plunge  the  country  into  democracy  are  also  the  bit- 
ter enemies  of  all  these  safeguards,  by  which  alone 
a  democratic  government  can  be  permanently  main- 
tained. 


CONSTITUTIONAL  CHANGES  137 


CHAPTER  II 

The  power  given  in  England  to  a  simple  majority  of  a 
single  Parliament  to  change,  with  the  assent  of  the 
Crown,  any  portion  of  the  Constitution  is  not  a  com- 
mon thing  among  free  nations.  Italy  and  Hungary,  it 
is  true,  appear  in  this  respect  to  stand  on  the  same 
basis  as  England.  In  Spain  there  is  a  written  Consti- 
tution that  makes  no  special  mention  of  provision  for 
its  own  reform,  and  it  is  a  disputed  question  whether 
the  text  of  the  Constitution  can  be  modified  by  a 
simple  legislative  measure  of  an  ordinary  Cortes,  or 
must  be  submitted  to  a  Constituent  Cortes  specially 
summoned  for  this  purpose.  But  in  most  constitutions 
there  is  a  distinct  line  drawn  between  organic  consti- 
tutional changes  and  ordinary  legislation,  and  careful 
provisions  establish  the  manner  in  which  alone  the 
former  can  be  carried  into  effect.  In  a  large  number  of 
constitutions,  of  which  those  of  the  Austrian  Empire, 
Belgium,  and  Bavaria  may  be  cited  as  examples,  two- 
thirds  majorities  are  required  for  constitutional  changes. 
In  several  constitutions  it  is  necessary  that  such 
changes  should  be  sanctioned  by  two  successive  Parlia- 
ments. In  the  Netherlands  they  may  be  demanded  by 
a  simple  majority  in  one  Parliament,  but  must  be 
sanctioned,  after  a  dissolution,  by  two-thirds  majorities 
in  its  successor.  In  the  German  Empire  there  is  a 
provision  that  fourteen  hostile  votes  in  the  Federal 
Council  constitute  on  these  subjects  an  absolute  veto. 
In  France,  constitutional  changes,  after  being  voted  by 


138  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  ii. 

majorities  in  each  of  the  two  Houses,  must  be  ap- 
proved by  a  majority  in  a  National  Assembly  con- 
sisting of  the  two  Houses  sitting  and  voting  together. 
In  Switzerland  they  may  be  proposed  by  either  Legis- 
lative Chamber,  or  by  50,000  vote-possessing  citizens, 
but  they  cannot  become  law  until  they  have  been 
sanctioned  by  a  direct  popular  vote  taken  in  the  form 
of  a  Eeferendum.^ 

Probably  none  of  these  provisions  are  as  really  effica- 
cious as  those  which  are  contained  in  the  Constitutions 
of  the  United  States.  None  of  them  exist  in  the  Brit- 
ish Constitution,  or  in  the  constitutions  of  the  great 
colonial  democracies  that  are  growing  up  under  the 
English  sceptre.  One  remarkable  attempt  to  introduce 
the  American  principle  into  an  English  colony  was,  in- 
deed, made  by  the  great  Australian  statesman,  Went- 
worth,  who,  in  1853,  introduced  into  his  scheme  for 
the  Constitution  of  New  South  Wales  a  clause  pro- 
viding that  alterations  in  the  Constitution  could  only 
be  carried  by  two-thirds  majorities.  Unfortunately, 
this  clause  ultimately  miscarried  in  England,  and  in 
this,  as  in  the  other  Colonies,  the  power  of  an  upper 
Chamber  and  the  small  measure  of  restraint  involved 
in  connection  with  the  mother  country  alone  restrict 
the  power  of  unbridled  democracy.^ 

Nothing,  indeed,  is  more  remarkable  in  our  consti- 
tutional history  than  the  small  stress  which  has  been 
placed  in  England  upon  mere  legislative  machinery, 
upon  Constitutional  laws  definitely  tracing  the  respec- 
tive limits  and  powers  of  different  institutions.  The 
system  of  checks  and  counterchecks  which  it  has  been 


'  Report  on  the  Majorities  re-      sented  to  the  House  of  Lords, 
quired  in  Foreign  Legislatures      April  1893. 
for  Constitutional  Changes,  pre-  '^  Rusden's   History    of  Aus- 

tralia^  iii.  71-137. 


on.  n.  THE  BRITISH  CONSTITUTION  139 

the  object  of  written  constitutions  to  maintain  has 
been  ronghly  maintained  in  England  by  the  great  di- 
versities that  long  existed  in  the  constituencies ;  by 
the  powerful  organisation  of  many  distinct,  and  some- 
times conflicting,  interests  ;  by  the  great  influence  and 
essentially  representative  character  of  the  House  of 
Lords.  It  has  been  supported  by  a  network  of  usages, 
traditions,  compromises,  and  understandings  which 
have  no  real  or  sufficient  basis  in  the  letter  of  the  law, 
but  which  have  long  been  universally  accepted.  Many 
of  the  most  important  working  elements  in  the  Con- 
stitution— the  nature  of  the  Cabinet,  the  functions 
of  the  Prime  Minister,  the  dignity  and  the  attitude 
of  the  Speaker,  the  initiative  of  the  Government  in 
matters  of  finance,  the  extent  to  which  the  House  of 
Lords  may  use  its  veto — rest  essentially  on  the  founda- 
tion of  custom.  It  is  absolutely  indispensable  to  the 
working  of  the  whole  machine  that  it  should  be  in 
the  hands  of  honest  and  trustworthy  men,  of  men 
determined  to  subordinate  on  great  occasions  their 
personal  and  party  interests  to  the  interests  of  the 
State  ;  imbued  with  a  genuine  spirit  of  compromise, 
and  cordially  in  harmony  with  the  general  spirit  of 
the  Constitution.  As  long  as  such  a  spirit  prevails 
in  Parliament  and  governs  the  constituencies,  so  long 
the  British  Constitution  will  prove  a  success.  If 
this  spirit  is  no  longer  found  among  rulers  and  Par- 
liaments and  constituencies,  there  is  no  constitution 
which  may  be  more  easily  dislocated,  and  which  pro- 
vides less  means  of  checking  excesses  of  bad  govern- 
ment. 

'  Upon  the  power,'  wrote  Adam  Smith,  '  which  the 
leading  men,  the  natural  aristocracy  of  every  country, 
have  of  preserving  or  defending  their  respective  im- 
portance depends  the  stability  and  duration  of  every 


140  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  ii, 

system  of  free  government.'^  This  truth  has  been 
always  strongly  felt  in  England,  and  it  has  sometimes 
been  pushed  to  very  extreme  consequences.  Thus,  in 
the  debates  upon  the  abolition  of  the  Corn  Laws, 
some  of  the  most  considerable  defenders  of  these  laws 
refused  to  argue  the  question  on  merely  economical 
grounds.  They  maintained  that  the  preponderance  of 
the  landed  interest  was  a  political  end  of  the  first  mag- 
nitude. They  argued  that  it  secured  for  the  nation  a 
governing  class  whose  interests  were  indissolubly  con- 
nected with  the  permanent  prosperity  of  England ; 
whose  class  standard  of  honour  placed  them  above  all 
suspicion  of  personal  corruption,  and  who,  by  living 
among  their  people  and  conducting  the  local  govern- 
ment of  their  counties,  had  acquired  in  a  high  mea- 
sure the  kinds  of  knowledge  and  of  capacity  that  are 
most  needed  in  political  life.  Long  after  the  sceptre 
of  power  had  passed  from  the  landed  gentry  to  the 
middle  classes,  the  old  belief,  or  prejudice,  or  super- 
stition that  the  administration  of  government  ought 
to  be  chiefly  entrusted  to  gentlemen,  prevailed,  and,  in 
spite  of  all  democratic  agitations,  it  is  certainly  very 
far  from  extinct. 

As  I  have  already  intimated,  this  belief,  like  many 
others  which  are  now  often  very  disdainfully  treated, 
is  by  no  means  incapable  of  defence.  The  position  of 
a  public  man  is  essentially  that  of  a  trustee,  and  inter- 
ests of  the  most  enormous  importance  depend  largely  on 
his  character.  To  place  the  direction  of  affairs  in  the 
hands  of  honest,  trustworthy,  and  competent  men, 
though  it  is  not  the  sole,  is  certainly  the  most  impor- 
tant end  of  politics,  and  an  immense  proportion  of 
the  calamities  that  politicians  have  brought  upon  the 


*  Wealth  of  Nations^  Book  iv.  ch.  7. 


CH.  II.      GOVERNMENT  BY  GENTLEMEN        141 

world  are  due  to  the  management  of  great  political  in- 
terests having  passed  into  the  hands  of  mere  scheming 
adventurers.  Honesty  and  dishonesty  belong  to  all 
ranks  and  to  all  grades  of  fortune,  but  in  dealing  with 
masses  of  men  we  must  judge  by  averages  and  proba- 
bilities, and  chiefly  by  the  strehgth  of  temptation  and 
the  pressure  of  interest.  *  How  easy  it  is/  as  Becky 
Sharp  said,  '  to  be  virtuous  on  5,000Z.  a  year  ! '  The 
fact  that  a  trustee  who  is  entrusted  with  vast  money 
interests  is  himself  not  a  needy,  struggling,  embarrassed 
man,  but  the  possessor  of  a  competent  fortune,  is  gen- 
erally recognised  as  furnishing  some  guarantee,  though, 
unfortunately,  by  no  means  a  sufficient  one,  that  he 
will  not  dishonestly  abuse  his  trust.  And  the  strength 
of  this  presumption  is  greatly  increased  if  the  cha- 
racter of  his  fortune  is  not  fugitive  and  movable,  but 
permanent  and  stationary,  and  if  he  holds  a  desirable 
social  position  which  depends  mainly  upon  opinion, 
and  would  be  inevitably  destroyed  by  an  act  of  private 
dishonesty. 

This  is  the  mode  of  reasoning  on  which  men  inva- 
riably act  in  the  transactions  of  private  life,  and  it  is 
equally  applicable  to  politics.  The  code  of  honour 
which  the  conventionalities  of  society  attach  to  the 
idea  of  a  gentleman  is,  indeed,  a  somewhat  capricious 
thing,  and  certainly  not  co-extensive  with  the  moral 
law.  It  may  be,  and  often  is,  compatible  with  acts 
that  are,  in  truth,  profoundly  base  and  immoral. 
Without  forfeiting  this  position  in  the  eyes  of  the 
world,  men  have  plunged  their  country,  through  mo- 
tives of  mere  personal  ambition,  into  the  horrors  of 
war ;  have  sought  for  honours,  or  power,  or  party 
triumphs,  by  shameful  acts  of  political  apostasy  and 
shameful  incitements  to  class  warfare  ;  have  purchased 
majorities  by  allying  themselves  with  dishonest  men 


142,  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  ii. 

pursuing  dishonest  ends  ;  have  framed  constitutions  to 
enable  their  allies  to  carry  those  ends  into  effect.  Men 
of  old  families  and  ample  means  may  be  found  among 
the  active  agents  or  the  servile  tools  in  some  of  the 
worst  political  transactions  of  our  time.  All  this  is 
profoundly  true  ;  and  it  is  also  true  that  when  any 
one  class,  be  it  high  or  low,  obtains  an  uncontrolled,  or 
even  a  greatly  preponderating,  power,  its  policy  will 
exhibit  a  class  bias.  At  the  same  time,  it  is  no  less 
true  that  on  special  subjects,  and  within  a  restricted 
sphere,  the  code  of  honour  of  a  gentleman  is  the  most 
powerful  of  all  restraining  influences,  more  powerful 
even  than  religion  with  ordinary  men.  Wherever  it 
pervades  the  public  service  men  will  soon  learn  to  re- 
cognise that  public  servants  cannot  be  bribed  or  cor- 
rupted ;  that  in  dealing  with  public  money  they  will 
not  be  guilty  of  malversation  ;  that  their  word  may  be 
trusted,  that  they  are  not  likely  to  act  by  tortuous  or 
intriguing  methods.  The  credit  of  England  in  the 
world  depends  largely  upon  this  conviction,  and  that 
credit  has  been  no  small  element  of  her  prosperity. 
Imputations  against  men  in  high  office,  which  in.  many 
countries  are  constantly  made,  easily  believed,  and 
sometimes  proved,  are  in  England  at  once  felt  to  be 
incredible.  One  thing,  at  least,  is  very  apparent  to  all 
serious  observers — if  the  government  of  England  passes 
altogether  out  of  the  hands  of  the  kind  of  men  who 
have  hitherto  directed  it,  it  will  speedily  fall  into  the 
hands  of  professional  politicians.  What  the  character 
and  tendencies  of  such  politicians  are  likely  to  be,  the 
example  of  the  United  States  abundantly  shows,  and  it 
shows  also  how  different  must  be  the  constitution 
under  which  alone  they  can  be  safely  restrained. 

I  do  not  think  there  is  any  single  fact  which  is  more 
evident  to  impartial  observers  than  the  declining  effi- 


CH.  11.      DISTRUST  OF  REPRESENTATIVE  BODIES         143 

ciency  and  the  lowered  character  of  parliamentary  go- 
vernment. The  evil  is  certainly  not  restricted  to  Eng- 
land. All  over  Europe,  and,  it  may  be  added,  in  a 
great  measure  in  the  United  States,  complaints  of  the 
same  kind  may  be  heard.  A  growing  distrust  and 
contempt  for  representative  bodies  has  been  one  of  the 
most  characteristic  features  of  the  closing  years  of  the 
nineteenth  century.  In  some  countries,  as  we  have  al- 
ready seen,  the  parliainentary  system  means  constantly 
shifting  government,  ruined  finances,  frequent  mili- 
tary revolts,  the  systematic  management  of  constituen- 
cies. In  most  countries  it  has  proved  singularly  sterile 
in  high  talent.  It  seems  to  have  fallen  more  and  more 
under  the  control  of  men  of  an  inferior  stamp  :  of 
skilful  talkers  or  intriguers;  or  sectional  interests  or 
small  groups  ;  and  its  hold  upon  the  affection  and  re- 
spect of  nations  has  visibly  diminished.  Laveleye  has 
truly  noted  the  sigh  of  relief  that  is  felt  in  many  lands 
when  a  Parliament  is  prorogued,  and  the  growing  feel- 
ing that  America  has  acted  wisely  in  restricting  many 
of  her  State  legislatures  to  biennial  sessions.  He  ob- 
serves, with  some  cynicism,  that  Italy  has  one  special 
advantage  in  her  capital — the  Eoman  malaria  effectu- 
ally abridges  the  sessions  of  her  Parliament. 

This  great  decline  in  the  weight  of  representative 
bodies,  which  has  made  'parliamentarism'  almost  a 
by-word  in  many  nations,  has  advanced  contempora- 
neously with  the  growth  of  democracy.  In  a  large 
degree,  at  least,  it  may  be  clearly  traced  to  the  general 
establishment  of  universal  suffrage  as  the  basis  of  rep- 
resentation. It  is  being  generally  discovered  that  the 
system  which  places  the  supreme  power  in  the  hands 
of  mere  majorities,  consisting  necessarily  of  the  poor- 
est and  most  ignorant,  whatever  else  it  may  do,  does 
not  produce  Parliaments  of  surpassing  excellence.     One 


144  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  n. 

thing,  however,  must  he  observed.  Ignorance  in  the 
elective  body  does  not  naturally  produce  ignorance  in 
the  representative  body.  It  is  much  more  likely  to 
produce  dishonesty.  Intriguers  and  demagogues,  play- 
ing successfully  on  the  passions  and  the  credulity  of 
the  ignorant  and  of  the  poor,  form  one  of  the  great 
characteristic  evils  and  dangers  of  our  time. 

In  England,  no  one  can  be  insensible  to  the  change 
in  the  tone  of  the  House  of  Commons  within  the  mem^ 
ory  of  living  men.  The  old  understandings  and  tra- 
ditions, on  which  its  deliberations  have  been  for  many 
generations  successfully  conducted,  have  largely  disap- 
peared, and  new  and  stringent  regulations  have  been 
found  necessary.  Scenes  of  coarse  and  brutal  insult, 
of  deliberate  obstruction,  of  unrestrained  violence,  cul- 
minating on  one  occasion  in  actual  blows,  have  been 
displayed  within  its  walls,  which  recall  vividly  the 
condition  of  the  American  Congress  in  the  years  of 
fiercely  excited  passions  that  preceded  the  Civil  War. 
It  is  true  that  these  scenes  may  be  chiefly  traced  to 
one  party,  which  made  it  its  avowed  object  to  de- 
grade, dislocate,  and  paralyse  the  parliamentary  ma- 
chine till  their  objects  were  attained  ;  but  the  con- 
tagion of  their  example  and  the  connivance,  through 
party  motives,  of  other  members  have  been  very 
evident. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  power  of  arbitrarily  closing 
debates,  which  has  been  placed  in  the  hands  of  majori- 
ties, has  been  grossly  abused.  It  has  been  made  use  of 
not  merely  to  abridge,  but  to  prevent,  discussion  oii 
matters  of  momentous  importance.  Many  clauses  of 
a  Home  Rule  Bill  which  went  to  the  very  root  of  the 
British  Constitution  ;  which,  in  the  opinion  of  the 
great  majority  of  oompetent  British  statesmen,  would 
have  proved  the  inevitable  prelude  to  the  dismember- 


CH.  II.    DECADENCE  OF  THE  HOUSE  OP  COMMONS       145 

ment  and  downfall  of  the  Empire  ;  which  was  sup- 
ported by  a  party  depending  on  the  votes  of  men  who 
were  ostentatiously  indifferent  to  the  well-being  of  the 
Empire,  and  was  strenuously  opposed  by  a  great  ma- 
jority of  the  representatives  of  England,  and  by  a 
considerable  majority  of  the  representatives  of  Great 
Britain,  were  forced  through  the  House  of  Commons  by 
the  application  of  the  Closure,  and  without  any  possi- 
bility of  the  smallest  discussion.  Nothing  but  the  veto 
of  the  House  of  Lords  prevented  a  measure  of  the  first 
importance,  carried  by  such  means  and  by  a  bare  ma- 
jority, from  becoming  law. 

And  while  this  change  has  been  passing  over  the 
spirit  of  the  House  of  Commons,  its  powers  and  its 
pretensions  are  constantly  extending.  The  enormous 
extension  of  the  practice  of  questioning  ministers  has 
immensely  increased  the  intervention  of  the  House  in 
the  most  delicate  functions  of  the  Executive.  It  in- 
sists on  measures  and  negotiations,  in  every  stage  of 
their  inception,  being  brought  before  it,  and  resolu- 
tions emanating  from  independent  sections  have  more 
than  once  exercised  a  most  prejudicial  influence,  if  not 
on  foreign  affairs,  at  least  on  the  government  of  India. 
At  the  same  time,  the  claim  is  more  and  more  loudly 
put  forward  tliat  it  should  be  treated  as  if  it  were  the 
sole  power  in  the  State.  The  veto  of  the  sovereign  has 
long  since  fallen  into  abeyance.  Her  constitutional 
right  of  dissolving  Parliament  if  she  believes  that  a 
minister  or  a  majority  do  not  truly  represent  the  feel- 
ings of  the  nation,  and  are  acting  contrary  to  its  inter- 
ests, might  sometimes  be  of  the  utmost  value,  but  it  is 
never  likely  to  be  put  in  force.  Her  slight  power,  in 
the  rare  cases  of  nearly  balanced  claims,  of  selecting 
the  minister  to  whom  she  will  entrust  the  government, 
and  the  slight  influence  she  still  retains  over  the  dispo- 

VOL.   I.  10 


146  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  ii. 

sition  of  patronage,  are  regarded  with  extreme  jealousy  ; 
while  every  interference  of  the  House  of  Lords  with  the 
proposed  legislation  of  the  Commons  has  been,  during, 
a  considerable  part  of  the  last  few  years,  made  the  sig- 
nal of  insolent  abuse.  It  would  be  difficult  to  conceive 
a  greater  absurdity  than  a  second  Chamber  which  has 
no  power  of  rejecting,  altering,  or  revising  ;  and  this 
is  practically  the  position  to  which  a  large  number  of 
members  of  the  House  of  Commons,  and  of  their  sup- 
porters outside  the  House,  would  reduce  the  House  of 
Lords. 

We  can  hardly  have  a  more  grotesque  exhibition  of 
this  spirit  than  was  displayed  during  the  discussion  of 
the  Parish  Council  Bill  in  1894.  The  Bill  came  for 
the  first  time  before  Parliament.  It  was  one  on  which 
the  House  of  Lords,  consisting  of  the  great  proprietors 
of  the  soil,  could  speak  with  pre-eminent  knowledge 
and  authority,  while  a  vast  proportion  of  the  majority 
in  the  House  of  Commons  had  not  the  remotest  con- 
nection with  land,  and  were  notoriously  acting  under 
mere  motives  of  party  interest.  The  Bill  of  the  Com- 
mons, in  its  principle  and  main  outlines,  was  accepted 
by  the  Lords,  and  they  went  no  further  than  to  alter  it 
in  a  few  of  its  details.  But  because  they  exercised  in 
this  manner  their  clearest  and  most  indisputable  con- 
stitutional right,  on  a  subject  with  which  they  were 
peculiarly  competent  to  deal,  they  were  denounced  as 
if  they  had  committed  an  outrage  on  the  nation.  The 
last  ministerial  speech  with  which  Mr.  Gladstone  closed 
his  long  political  career  ^  was  an  abortive  attempt  to 
kindle  a  popular  agitation  against  them  on  that  ground. 

The  enormous  and  portentous  development  of  par- 
liamentary speaking,   which  has  so  greatly  impeded 


»  March  1, 1894. 


CH.  II.  PARLIAMENTARY  SPEAKING  147 

public  business,  is  due  to  many  causes.  In  the  first 
place,  the  House  of  Commons  of  670  members  is  far 
too  large  for  the  purposes  for  which  it  is  intended.  It 
is  larger  than  any  other  legislative  body  in  the  world, 
and  the  nineteenth  century  has  added  greatly  both  to 
its  numbers  and  its  speakers.  At  the  beginning  of  the 
century  it  received  an  important  addition  in  the  Irish 
members  who  were  brought  in  by  the  Union.  The  abo- 
lition of  tlie  small  boroughs  and  the  increasing  power 
of  the  constituencies  over  their  members  greatly  in- 
creased the  average  attendance,  by  making  the  mem- 
bers much  more  directly  dependent  upon  their  electors. 
The  Reform  Bills  of  18(J7  and  1885  gave  an  opjiortunity 
for  some  reduction.  But,  as  is  usually  the  case,  the 
interests  of  party  and  popularity  prevailed,  and  the 
number  of  members  was  not  diminished,  but  even 
slightly  increased.  The  scenes  of  violence,  anarchy, 
and  deliberate  obstruction  that  have  been  so  frequent 
during  late  years  have  done  much  to  destroy  that  re- 
spect for  the  House,  that  timidity  in  appearing  before 
a  fastidious  audience,  which  once  weighed  heavily  on 
nearly  all  new  members,  and  imposed  a  useful  restraint 
on  idle  speaking.  At  the  same  time,  the  development 
of  the  provincial  papers  has  made  it  an  easy  and  desira- 
ble thing  for  each  member  to  be  reported  at  full  in  his 
own  constituency  as  a  prominent  speaker ;  and  the  vast 
increase  of  stump  oratory  by  members  of  Parliament  in 
every  town  and  almost  every  village  has  given  nearly 
all  members  a  fatal  facility.  Something,  also,  has  been 
due  to  the  fact  that  the  House  of  Commons  was  led  or 
profoundly  influenced  during  many  years  by  a  very 
great  orator,  who  possessed  every  form  of  eloquence 
except  conciseness,  and  who  could  rarely  answer  a 
question  without  making  a  speech. 

This  difEuseness  and  incontinence  of  speech  has  not 


148  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  ii. 

been  the  characteristic  of  the  deliberative  assemblies 
that  have  left  the  greatest  mark  on  the  history  of  the 
world.  Jefferson  observes  in  his  '  Memoirs/  '  I  served 
with  Washington  in  the  Legislature  of  Virginia,  before 
the  Eevolution,  and  during  it,  with  Dr.  Franklin,  in 
Congress.  I  never  heard  either  of  them  speak  ten 
minutes  at  a  time,  nor  to  any  but  the  main  point  which 
was  to  decide  the  question.'*  In  our  own  House  of 
Commons,  old  members  still  remember  the  terse,  di- 
rect character  of  the  speeches  of  Eussell,  Palmerston, 
and  Disraeli,  and  many  men  who  have  exercised  great 
weight  and  influence  in  English  politics  have  been  sin- 
gularly deficient  in  the  power  of  speech.  The  names 
of  Lord  Althorp,  Sir  Charles  Wood,  and  the  Duke 
of  Wellington  in  the  past  generation,  and  of  W.  H. 
Smith  in  our  own,  will  at  once  occur  to  the  reader. 
The  dreary  torrent  of  idle,  diffusive,  insincere  talk 
that  now  drags  its  slow  lengths  through  so  many 
months  at  Westminster  certainly  does  not  contribute  to' 
raise  the  character  of  the  House  of  Commons,  It  is  a 
significant  sign  that  parliamentary  reporting  has  of 
late  years  greatly  declined,  and  that  newspapers  which 
would  once  have  competed  for  the  fullest  reports  of 
parliamentary  speeches  now  content  themselves  with 
abridgments,  or  summaries,  or  even  with  sketches  of 
the  speakers. 

On  the  whole,  however,  it  may  be  questioned  whether, 
in  the  existing  state  of  the  British  Constitution,  this 
diffuseness  is  an  evil.  There  is  some  weight  in  the  con- 
tention of  Bagehot,  that  one  great  advantage  of  govern- 
ment by  debate  is,  that  much  talking  prevents  much 
action,  and  if  it  does  little  to  enlighten  the  subject,  it 
at  least  greatly  checks  the  progress  of  hasty  and  revo- 


'  Life  of  Jefferson^  i.  179. 


CH.  II.  INFLUENCE  OF  THE  CAUCUS  149 

lutionary  legislation.  There  are  worse  things  than  a 
wasted  session,  and,  in  times  when  the  old  restraints 
and  balances  of  the  Constitution  have  almost  perished, 
the  restraint  of  loquacity  is  not  to  be  despised. 

It  makes  the  House  of  Commons,  however,  a  per- 
fectly inefficient  instrument  for  some  of  the  purposes 
it  is  expected  to  fulfil.  There  are  large  questions,  such 
as  the  reform  and  codification  of  great  branches  of  the 
law,  which  bristle  with  points  of  difficulty  and  differ- 
ence, but  which  at  the  same  time  do  not  fall  within  the 
lines  of  party  or  affect  the  balance  of  power.  To  carry 
highly  complex  measures  of  this  kind  through  a  body 
like  the  present  House  of  Commons  is  utterly  impossi- 
ble, and  these  much-needed  reforms  are  never  likely  to 
be  accomplished  till  the  Constitution  is  so  far  changed 
as  to  give  much  larger  powers  to  Committees. 

The  independence  of  Parliament  has  at  the  same 
time  almost  gone.  Since  the  country  has  committed 
itself  to  democracy  the  caucus  system — which  is  but 
another  name  for  the  American  machine,  and  which, 
like  the  American  machine,  is  mainly  managed  by  a 
small  number  of  active  politicians — has  grown  with 
portentous  rapidity.  It  nominates  the  candidates  for 
elections.  It  dictates  their  policy  in  all  its  details.  It 
applies  a  constant  pressure  by  instructions,  remon- 
strances, and  deputations  at  every  stage  of  their  task. 
It  reduces  the  ordinary  member  of  Parliament  to  the 
position  of  a  mere  delegate,  or  puppet,  though  at  the 
same  time  it  tends,  like  many  other  democratic  institu- 
tions, to  aggrandise  enormously  the  power  of  any  single 
individual  who  is  sufficiently  powerful  and  conspicuous 
to  enlist  the  favour  of  the  nation  and  dominate  and 
direct  the  caucus  machinery.  What  is  called  '  the  one- 
man  power  Ms  a  very  natural  product  of  democracy. 
Mr.  Bright  once  said  that  the  greatest  danger  of  onr 


150  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  ii. 

present  system  of  government  is  surprise — the  power 
which  a  bold  and  brilliant  leader  possesses  of  commit- 
ting his  party  by  his  own  will  to  a  new  policy  which  had 
never  been  maturely  considered  or  accepted.  It  is  no- 
torious that  the  most  momentous  new  departure  made 
by  the  Liberal  party  in  our  day — the  adoption  of  the  pol- 
icy of  Home  Eule — was  due  to  a  single  man,  who  acted 
without  consulting  the  most  important  of  his  colleagues. 
At  the  same  time,  a  great  change  has  taken  j)lace  in 
the  relations  of  Government  to  the  House  of  Commons. 
In  order  to  guard  against  the  dangers  to  be  feared  from 
an  unrestrained  House,  opposite  methods  have  been 
employed  in  the  United  States  and  in  England.  In 
the  former,  the  ministers  form  no  part  of  the  represen- 
tative Chamber,  and  the  vote  of  that  Chamber  is  in- 
competent to  overthrow  them.  In  England,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  Ministry  is  the  creature  of  the  House 
of  Commons ;  but  the  organised  force  of  a  united  Ca- 
binet is  the  most  powerful  restraint  upon  its  proceed- 
ings. Most  of  the  old  power  of  the  sovereign,  as  it  has 
been  truly  said,  has  now  passed  to  the  Cabinet,  and  a 
solid  body  of  the  leaders  of  the  majority,  whose  guid- 
ance is  indispensable  to  the  ascendency  of  their  party, 
is  able  to  exercise  a  strong  controlling  influence  on  all 
parliamentary  proceedings.  But  the  situation  is  much 
modified  when  Parliaments  break  up  into  small  groups. 
All  over  the  world  this  has  been  one  of  the  most  marked 
and  significant  tendencies  of  democratic  Parliaments, 
and  it  will  probably  eventually  lead  to  a  profound 
change  in  the  system  of  parliamentary  government. 
In  France,  in  Germany,  and  in  Italy,  as  well  as  in  many 
minor  States,  this  disintegration  may  be  shown  to  its 
full  extent ;  in  Great  Britain  it  has  made  considerable 
progress.  Not  many  years  ago  Belgium  was  said  to  be 
the  only  European  country  where  the  Legislature  was 


CH.  II.  PARLIAMENTARY  GROUPS  151 

still  divided  into  only  two  distinct  parties,'  One  of  the 
first  results  of  her  lowered  suffrage  has  been  the  intro- 
duction into  her  Parliament  of  a  new  and  powerful  So- 
cialist group. 

Where  this  disintegration  extends  to  the  majority  its 
results  are  very  manifest.  Government  in  its  relation 
to  the  House  of  Commons  loses  its  old  commanding  and 
controlling  authority.  The  Cabinet  had  already  lost 
much  of  its  initiating  power  by  the  growth  of  the  caucus 
system,  which  dictates  the  policy  of  the  party.  In  a 
Parliament  with  no  homogeneous  majority  its  strength 
is  still  further  diminished.  A  coalition  may  at  any 
time  overthrow  it.  It  depends  upon  the  concurrence 
of  many  distinct  groups,  governed  by  different  motives, 
aiming  at  different  objects,  rej^resenting  different 
shades  of  political  feeling.  It  is  obliged  to  conciliate 
by  separate  bribes  these  differerit  sections,  or  to  dis- 
cover some  cry  that  may  rally  them,  some  active  and 
aggressive  policy  that  may  secure  their  support,  and 
to  which  they  will  subordinate  their  special  objects. 

This  evil  is  greatly  accentuated  by  the  modern  dis- 
covery that  the  disintegration  of  parties  is  exceedingly 
conducive  to  the  triumph  of  minor  sectional  objects. 
A  group  of  men  representing  opinions  and  aiming  at 
objects  which  are  only  those  of  a  small  minority  of  the 
nation,  may  obtain  a  decisive  influence  if  it  keeps  apart 
from  the  great  party  organisations,  subordinates  all 
other  considerations  to  its  own  objects,  and  at  times 
when  parties  are  evenly  balanced,  and  when  a  few  votes 
can  save  or  destroy  a  Government,  makes  the  attain- 
ment of  those  objects  the  price  of  its  adhesion.  Where 
there  are  only  two  strongly  organised  parties  these 
minor  questions  fall  into  their  natural  place  ;  but  in  a 


'  Laveleye,  Le  Gouvernement  dans  la  Democratie^  ii.  101. 


152  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  n. 

Parliament  broken  into  many  fractions,  each  fraction 
can  exercise  a  power  utterly  disproportionate  to  its 
numbers  and  to  its  real  hold  upon  the  country.  The 
action  of  the  independent  Irish  Home  Eule  party  in 
the  parliamentary  system  has  been  the  most  remarkable 
instance  of  this  truth,  and  other  groups  are  evidently 
constituting  themselves  in  the  same  way,  and  are  like- 
ly to  pursue  their  objects  by  the  same  parliamentary 
methods. 

The  consequences  of  all  this  are  very  far-reaching. 
If  my  forecast  is  not  erroneous,  it  must  end  in  the  de- 
struction of  that  ascendency  of  the  House  of  Commons 
which  was  built  up  in  the  days  of  middle-class  su- 
premacy and  of  strong  party  organisation.  It  produces 
also  a  weakness  and  an  instability  in  the  executive 
power  which  is  often  very  injurious  to  the  interests  of 
the  nation.  On  the  whole,  however,  this  weakness 
seems  likely  to  be  greater  under  Liberal  than  under 
Conservative  Governments,  as  the  Conservative  pai'ty  is 
far  more  homogeneous  than  its  rival.  The  great  re- 
volt of  the  nation  against  Radical  policy  in  1895  has 
created  one  of  the  most  powerful  ministries  of  the  cen- 
tury, resting  upon  an  enormous  and  substantially  ho- 
mogeneous majority  in  both  Houses.  But,  with  the 
fluctuations  to  which  parliamentary  government  is  now 
so  liable,  no  one  can  suppose  that  such  a  majority  can 
be  permanent.  All  the  signs  of  the  times  point  to  the 
probability  in  England,  as  elsewhere,  of  many  minis- 
tries resting  on  precarious  majorities  formed  out  of 
independent  or  heterogeneous  groups;  There  are  few 
conditions  less  favourable  to  the  healthy  working  of 
parliamentary  institutions,  or  in  which  the  danger  of 
an  uncontrolled  House  of  Commons  is  more  evident. 

One  consequence  of  this  disintegration  of  Parliament 
is  a  greatly  increased  probability  that  policies  which 


OH  11.  APPETITE  FOR  ORGANIC  CHANGE  153 

the  nation  does  not  really  wish  for  may  be  carried  into 
effect.  The  process  which  the  Americans  call  '  log- 
rolling '  becomes  very  easy.  One  minority  will  agree 
to  support  the  objects  of  another  minority  on  condition 
of  receiving  in  return  a  similar  assistance,  and  a  num- 
ber of  small  minorities  aiming  at  different  objects,  no 
one  of  which  is  really  desired  by  the  majority  of  the 
nation,  may  attain  their  several  ends  by  forming  them- 
selves into  a  political  syndicate  and  mutually  co-ope- 
rating. The  kind  of  politics  which  was  notoriously 
adopted  on  the  question  of  Home  Rule  illustrates  both 
the  nature  and  the  danger  of  this  system.  The  Home 
Rule  Bill  had  been  decisively  condemned  by  the  con- 
stituencies, and  the  Government  which  proposed  it 
saw  clearly  that  on  that  issue  alone  it  was  not  likely  to 
obtain  a  favourable  verdict.  It  was  argued,  however, 
that  if  a  Home  Rule  Government  could  win  the  sup- 
port of  the  electors  who  desired  local  option,  and  the 
disestablishment  of  the  Welsh  and  Scotch  Churches, 
and  the  abolition  of  the  hereditary  element  in  the 
House  of  Lords,  and  legislation  shortening  the  hours  of 
labour,  and  other  measures  of  a  democratic  character, 
these  different  parties  would  constitute  a  majority  that 
would  enable  the  ministers  to  carry  Home  Rule  in 
spite  of  the  wishes  of  the  nation. 

Probably  still  more  dangerous  is  the  necessity,  which 
the  existing  state  of  parliamentary  representation  es- 
tablishes, of  seeking  for  a  popular  cry,  which  generally 
means  some  organic  and  destructive  change  in  the  Con- 
stitution. An  appetite  for  organic  change  is  one  of  the 
worst  diseases  that  can  affect  a  nation.  All  real  pro- 
gress, all  sound  national  development,  must  grow  out 
of  a  stable,  persistent  national  character,  deeply  influ- 
enced by  custom  and  precedent  and  old  traditional 
reverence,  habitually  aiming  at  the  removal  of  prac- 


154  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  ii. 

tical  evils  and  the  attainment  of  practical  advantages, 
rather  than  specnlative  change.  Institutions,  like 
trees,  can  never  attain  their  maturity  or  produce  their 
proper  fruits  if  their  roots  are  perpetually  tampered 
with.  In  no  single  point  is  the  American  Constitu- 
tion more  incontestably  superior  to  our  own  than  in 
the  provisions  by  which  it  has  so  effectually  barred  the 
path  of  organic  change  that  the  appetite  for  such 
change  has  almost  passed  away.  No  one  who  observes 
English  politics  with  care  can  fail  to  see  how  frequently, 
when  a  statesman  is  out  of  office  and  his  party  divided, 
his  first  step  is  to  mark  out  some  ancient  institution  for 
attack  in  order  to  rally  his  followers.  Personal  vanity 
here  concurs  powerfully  with  party  interests,  for  men 
who  are  utterly  destitute  of  real  constructive  ability 
are  capable  of  attacking  an  existing  institution  ;  and 
there  is  no  other  form  of  politics  in  which  a  noisy 
reputation  can  be  so  easily  acquired.  Instead  of  wisely 
using  the  machinery  of  government  for  the  benefit  of 
the  whole  nation,  English  politicians  have  of  late  years 
been  perpetually  tampering  with  it,  and  a  spirit  of 
feverish  unrest  has  passed  into  English  politics  which, 
if  it  is  not  checked,  bodes  ill  for  the  permanence  of 
parliamentary  government. 

Both  parties  have  in  this  respect  much  to  answer 
for.  A  weak  Conservative  Government  is  often  tempted 
to  outbid  its  rival  and  win  the  support  of  some  discon- 
tented fragment  of  the  Opposition  ;  and  there  is  no 
Eadicalism  so  dangerous  as  this,  for  it  finds  no  external 
body  to  restrain  it,  and  the  Opposition  is  bound  by  its 
position  to  aggravate  it.  Few  pages  in  our  modern 
political  history  are  more  discreditable  than  the  story 
of  the  '  Conservative '  Eeform  Bill  of  1867.  A  weak 
Liberal  Government,  on  the  other  hand,  depends  for 
its  support  on  the  concurrence  of  many  semi-detached 


CH.  II.  ENGLISH  RADICALISM  156 

groups,  among  which  extreme  politicians  often  exercise 
a  disproportionate  power.  The  Home  Kule  schism,  by 
depriving  the  party  of  the  greater  part  of  its  restrain- 
ing and  moderating  element,  has  much  increased  the 
danger. 

There  are  few  things,  also,  more  disheartening  in 
English  politics  than  what  may  be  called  the  unintel- 
ligent conservatism  of  English  Kadicalism.  It  moves 
persistently  in  a  few  old,  well-worn  grooves.  The 
withdrawal  of  the  control  of  affairs  from  the  hands 
of  the  minority  who,  in  the  competitions  of  life,  have 
risen  to  a  higher  plane  of  fortune  and  instruction ; 
the  continual  degradation  of  the  suffrage  to  lower  and 
lower  strata  of  intelligence ;  attacks  upon  institution 
after  institution  ;  a  systematic  hostility  to  the  owners 
of  landed  property,  and  a  disposition  to  grant  much 
the  same  representative  institutions  to  all  portions  of 
the  Empire,  quite  irrespectively  of  their  circumstances 
and  characters,  are  the  directions  in  which  the  ordi- 
nary Kadical  naturally  moves.  In  hardly  any  quarter 
do  we  find  less  constructive  ability,  less  power  of  arriv- 
ing even  at  a  perception  of  the  new  evils  that  have 
arisen  or  of  the  new  remedies  that  are  required.  To 
destroy  some  institution,  or  to  injure  some  class,  is 
very  commonly  his  first  and  last  idea  in  constitutional 
policy. 

Another  tendency  which  is  very  manifestly  strength- 
ening in  English  politics  is  that  of  attempting  to  win 
votes  by  class  bribery.  With  very  large  democratic 
constituencies,  in  which  a  great  proportion  of  the 
voters  are  quite  indifferent  to  the  main  questions  of 
party  politics,  some  form  of  corruption  is  certain  to 
arise.  The  kinds  of  bribery,  it  is  true,  which  prevailed 
in  England  under  an  unreformed  Parliament  have 
either  disappeared  or  greatly  diminished.     The  num- 


166  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  ii. 

ber  of  the  electors,  the  secrecy  of  the  vote,  and  the 
stringency  of  recent  legishition  against  corruption,  have 
had  in  this  respect  a  salutary  effect.  The  gigantic 
corruption  which  exists  in  America  under  the  name  of 
the  '  spoils  system '  has  not  taken  root  in  England, 
though  some  recent  ^attempts  to  tamper,  in  the  inter- 
ests of  party,  with  the  old  method  of  appointing  magis- 
trates in  the  counties,  and  some  claims  that  have  been 
put  forward  by  members  of  Parliament  to  dictate  the 
patronage  in  their  constituencies,  show  that  there  are 
politicians  who  would  gladly  introduce  this  poison- 
germ  into  English  life.  Happily,  however,  the  system 
of  competitive  examination  places  most  branches  of  the 
Civil  Service  out  of  the  reach  of  politicians.  But  a 
form  of  bribery  which  is  far  cheaper  to  the  candidate, 
yet  far  more  costly  to  the  nation,  than  that  to  which 
our  grandfathers  were  accustomed,  has  rapidly  grown. 
As  Sir  Henry  Maine  has  truly  said,  the  bribery  which 
is  most  to  be  feared  in  a  democracy  is  that  of  '  legis- 
lating away  the  property  of  one  class  and  transferring 
it  to  another."  Partial,  inequitable  taxation,  intro- 
duced for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  votes,  is  an  evil 
which  in  democratic  societies  is  but  too  likely  to  in- 
crease. 

It  has  been  rendered  easier  by  the  great  fiscal  revolu- 
tion which  took  place  in  England  after  the  abolition  of 
the  Corn  Laws.  A  number  of  widely  diffused  indirect 
taxes,  which  were  paid  in  the  form  of  enhanced  prices, 
were  abolished  ;  taxation  has  been  more  concentrated, 
and  it  has  become  very  easy  to  vary  both  its  amount  and 
its  incidence.  It  is  remarkable  that,  at  a  time  when  this 
process  was  rapidly  advancing,  a  note  of  warning  and 
of  protest  was  sounded  by  one  of  the  wisest  leaders  of 


Popular  Government^  p.  106. 


CH.  n.  PRINCIPLES  OF  TAXATION  157 

the  Liberals.  Sir  C.  Lewis,  in  the  memorable  Budget 
speech  which  he  made  as  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer 
in  1857,  quoted  the  following  striking  passage  from 
Arthur  Young  :  '  The  mere  circumstance  of  taxes  be- 
ing very  numerous  in  order  to  raise  a  given  sum  is  a 
considerable  step  towards  equality  in  the  burden  fall- 
ing on  the  people.  If  I  were  to  define  a  good  system 
of  taxation,  it  should  be  that  of  bearing  lightly  on  an 
infinite  number  of  points,  heavily  on  none.  In  other 
words,  that  simplicity  in  taxation  is  the  greatest  ad- 
ditional weight  that  can  be  given  to  taxes,  and  ought 
in  every  country  to  be  most  sedulously  avoided.'  '  That 
opinion,'  said  Sir  Cornewall  Lewis,  '  though  contrary  to 
much  that  we  hear  at  the  present  day,  seems  to  me  to 
be  full  of  wisdom,  and  to  be  a  most  useful  practical 
guide  in  the  arrangement  of  a  system  of  taxation.'  ^ 

These  remarks  of  Sir  Cornewall  Lewis  were  much 
censured  at  the  time  ;  but  I  believe  that  many  of  our 
best  contemporary  thinkers  will  agree  with  me  that 
they  contain  much  truth,  and  that  the  concentration 
of  taxation  into  a  very  few  forms  has  been  carried  in 
England  to  an  exaggerated  extent.  In  times  when 
prosperity  is  rapidly  advancing  and  when  taxation  is 
easily  borne  the  evil  may  be  little  felt  ;  but  in  times  of 
receding  prosperity  it  is  of  no  small  advantage  that  the 
burden  of  taxation  should  be  diffused  in  many  forms 
and  over  a  wide  area.  As  it  is  much  easier  in  times  of 
adversity  to  raise  than  to  impose  a  duty,  it  is  often  wiser 


'  Northcote's    Twenty    Years  of  really  equitable  taxation  that 

of  Financial  Policy^  pp.  309-10.  has  been  yet  devised,  as  those 

There  is  a  remarkable  speech  of  who  escaped  one  tax  fall  under 

Thiers  in  favour  of  a  great  va-  another,   and    taxation   adjusts 

riety  of  moderate  taxes,  deliv-  itself  almost  insensibly  to  ex- 

ered  January  19,  1831.    He  con-  penditure. 
tended  that  this  is  the  only  system 


158  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  ii. 

in  times  of  prosperity  to  lower  than  to  abolish  it.  Low 
duties  on  articles  of  general  consumption,  showing 
themselves  in  a  slightly  enhanced  price,  pass  almost  un- 
noticed, and  usually  cause  far  less  friction  and  discom- 
fort than  direct  taxes.  They  are  very  equitable,  for 
they  are  strictly  proportioned  to  consumption  or  enjoy- 
ment ;  and  this  system  of  taxation  makes  it  easy  for 
the  taxpayer,  according  to  his  improving  or  declining 
means,  to  vary  his  taxation  by  varying  his  consumption, 
while  it  secures  that  some  portion  of  the  national  bur- 
den shall  be  diffused  over  a  wide  area.  An  excellent 
writer  on  this  subject  has  truly  said  :  '  If  only  our  fis- 
cal burdens  are  equitably  apportioned,  and  so  contrived 
as  neither  to  fetter  industry  nor  to  repress  enterprise, 
that  mode  of  levying  them  must  be  the  best  which  is 
the  least  unpleasant  and  the  least  felt ; '  and  the  same 
writer  gives  good  ground  for  believing  that  there  is 
much  exaggeration,  and  even  positive  error,  in  the  popu- 
lar notion  that  the  cost  of  collecting  indirect  taxes  is 
greater  than  that  of  collecting  direct  ones.^  Two 
other  considerations  must  also  be  remembered.  One  is, 
that  the  remission  of  a  direct  tax  is  usually  felt  to  its 
full  extent  by  the  whole  body  of  taxpayers  affected, 
while  a  wholly  disproportionate  amount  of  the  benefit 
arising  from  the  remission  of  a  duty  is  in  most  cases 
intercepted  by  middlemen.  The  other  is,  that  the  re- 
mission of  a  direct  tax  is  usually  an  unmixed  benefit, 
while  the  remission  of  an  indirect  tax,  by  stimulating 
competition,  often  produces  acute  suffering  to  particu- 
lar classes.  Thus,  to  give  a  single  example,  the  kelp 
manufacture,  on  which  the  poorest  inhabitants  of  the 
most  barren  coast-lands  in  Scotland  and  Ireland  are 
largely  supported,  was  for  many  years  wholly  depen- 


'  Greg's  Political  Problems^  p.  304. 


en.  II.     EXAGGERATIONS  OF  FREE  TRADE      169 

dent  for  its  existence  on  a  tax  which  was  imposed  on 
Spanish  barilla. 

I  do  not  intend  by  these  remarks  to  dispute  the  im- 
mense advantages  which  England  has  derived  from  her 
Free-trade  legislation.  This  legislation  has  vastly  sti- 
mulated both  production  and  consumption  ;  it  has  light- 
ened many  burdens  ;  and  in  many  cases  the  Treasury 
has  derived  a  far  greater  revenue  from  a  low  duty  than 
it  had  ever  received  from  a  high  one.  But  the  political 
evil  of  narrowing  the  basis  of  taxation  is  a  real  one, 
and,  even  in  its  purely  economical  aspects,  the  reaction 
against  the  abuses  of  the  old  fiscal  system  seems  to  have 
been  carried  too  far.  It  is  not  probable  that  a  single 
loaf  of  bread  was  made  the  cheaper  by  the  abolition,  in 
1809,  of  the  shilling  registration  duty  on  corn,  though 
that  small  duty  at  the  time  it  was  repealed  by  Mr.  Lowe 
brought  more  than  900,000Z.  into  the  national  ex- 
chequer, and  would,  probably,  at  the  present  day  have 
brought  in  double  that  sum.  Not  one  Londoner  in  a 
hundred  even  knew  of  the  existence  of  the  small  Lon- 
don duty  on  coal  Avhicli  was  abolished  in  the  present  ge- 
neration. It  had  existed  in  one  form  or  another  for  more 
than  six  hundred  years,  and  was  almost  the  oldest  of  our 
taxes.  It  furnished  an  income  of  more  than  500,000?. 
a  year,  raised  without  complaint,  for  the  purpose  of 
effecting  metropolitan  improvements  ;  and  there  is  no 
reason  to  believe  that  any  human  being,  except  a  few 
rich  coalowners  and  middlemen,  derived  any  benefit 
from  its  abolition.^ 

We  have  a  striking  instance — though  it  was  not  of  a 


*  The  facts  relating  to  these  Results  in   the  way  of  Fluctu- 

coal  dues  will  be  found  in  a  re-  ations  and  Alterations    of  the 

port  issued  by  the  Coal,  Corn,  Price  of  Coal  in  London  since 

and  Finance  Committee  of  the  the  Abolition  of  the  Coal  Dues. 
Corporation  of  London,  on  The 


160  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  il 

democratic  character — of  the  manner  in  which  changes 
in  taxation  may  be  made  use  of  for  electioneering  pur- 
poses in  the  conduct  of  Mr.  Gladstone  in  making  the 
abolition  of  the  income-tax  his  election-cry  at  the 
general  election  of  1874.  The  circumstances  of  this 
election  may  be  briefly  told.  Mr.  Gladstone  was  not 
obliged  to  go  to  the  country.  In  spite  of  his  defeat  on 
the  Irish  University  question  in  the  preceding  year,  he 
had  still  a  considerable  and  unbroken  majority,  though 
several  defeats  at  bye-elections  showed  clearly  that  his 
power  was  declining,  and  especially  that  the  upper  and 
middle  classes,  who  were  the  payers  of  income-tax, 
were  profoundly  shaken  in  their  allegiance  to  him. 
The  income-tax-payers,  it  is  true,  were  not  even  then 
an  absolute  majority  of  the  electors,  but  they  formed  a 
much  larger  proportion  than  after  the  Reform  Bill  of 
1885.  They  included  the  great  majority  of  the  voters 
who  could  influence  other  voters  ;  and  they  were  a 
body  so  large  and  so  powerful  that  there  was  no  rea- 
sonable doubt  that  a  general  movement  among  them 
would  decide  the  fate  of  the  election.  The  fortune  of 
the  ministry  was  tolerably  certain  to  turn  upon  the 
question  whether  the  defection  in  this  notoriously  wa- 
vering class  could  be  arrested. 

It  was  under  these  circumstances  that  Mr.  Gladstone, 
much  to  the  surprise  of  the  country,  suddenly  dissolved 
Parliament ;  and  he  issued  a  programme  to  his  electors 
which,  if  the  report  of  those  who  are  likely  to  be  best 
informed  is  not  wholly  erroneous,  was  as  much  a  sur- 
prise to  most  of  his  colleagues  as  to  the  public.  The 
times  were  very  prosperous,  and  a  great  surplus  was 
gathering  in  the  Exchequer.  Mr.  Gladstone,  throw- 
ing all  other  political  questions  into  the  background, 
resolved  to  utilise  this  surplus  for  election  purposes, 
and  to  stake  his  chances  at  the  election  upon  large  di- 


CH.  n.  THE  ELECTION  OP  1874  161 

rect  offers  of  financial  relief  made  to  the  electors,  but 
especially  to  that  class  of  the  electors  who  were  known 
to  be  wavering  in  their  allegiance.  One  portion  of  his 
election  address  consisted  of  a  general  and  undefined 
promise  to  reduce  duties  and  assist  rates  ;  but  the  part 
which  at  once  and  especially  riveted  the  attention  of 
the  country  by  its  conspicuous  novelty  and  boldness 
was  a  definite  pledge  that  if  he  won  the  election  he 
would  abolish  the  income-tax.  This  promise  at  once 
became  the  leading  feature  of  the  election.  It  was 
urged  from  a  hundred  Liberal  platforms  and  in  a  hun- 
dred Liberal  newspapers  as  the  great  reason  why  the 
income-tax -payers  should  support  the  ministry.  Every 
elector  of  this  class,  as  he  went  to  the  poll,  was  clearly 
informed  that  he  had  a  direct  personal  money  interest 
in  the  triumph  of  the  Government. 

It  is  true  that  the  promise  of  Mr.  Gladstone  was 
qualified  by  the  following  vague  passage  in  his  election 
address  :  '  I  have  said  nothing  to  preclude  the  Go- 
vernment from  asking  Parliament  to  consider,  in  con- 
junction with  these  great  remissions,  what  moderate 
assistance  could  be  had  from  judicious  adjustments 
of  existing  taxes.'  It  is  true  also,  that  in  a  later 
speech,  being  pressed  with  .the  impossibility  of  repeal- 
ing the  income-tax  without  imposing  other  taxation, 
he  admitted  that,  in  consideration  of  the  repeal  of  the 
income-tax  and  the  reduction  of  rates,  '  property  ought 
in  some  shape  and  to  some  considerable  and  equitable 
extent  to  make  some  fair  contribution  towards  the 
public  burdens.'  But  the  nature  and  magnitude  of 
this  contribution,  the  form  it  was  to  take,  and  the  area 
over  which  it  was  to  be  distributed,  were  never  revealed 
up  to  the  day  of  the  election.  Everything  relating  to 
it  was  left  perfectly  vague  and  shadowy.  One  point 
only  was  brought  before  the  electors  in  clear,  vivid, 

VOL.  I.  11 


162  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  ii. 

unmistakable  relief.  It  was,  that  if  Mr.  Gladstone 
won  the  day  the  income-tax  would  cease.  Such  a 
promise,  unaccompanied  by  any  distinct  statement  of 
equivalent  burdens  to  be  imposed,  could  only  have 
operated  as  a  direct  bribe  addressed  to  that  great 
section  of  the  electorate  whose  growing  alienation  from 
the  Government  was  the  chief  cause  of  the  dissolution. 
No  politician,  I  believe,  seriously  doubted  that  when 
Mr.  Gladstone  placed  the  abolition  of  the  income-tax 
in  the  forefront  of  the  battle,  his  object  was  to  win  the 
income-tax-payers  to  his  side. 

Some  strictures  that  I  ventured  to  make  on  this  trans- 
action in  a  former  book  elicited  from  Mr.  Gladstone 
two  articles  of  indignant  defence.^  No  one  who  judged 
solely  from  those  skilful  and  plausible  pages  would  im- 
agine that  any  question  of  winning  votes,  or  arresting 
a  political  defection,  or  gaining  a  party  triumph,  could 
have  entered  even  distantly  into  his  calculations.  He 
was  merely,  he  said,  'consulting^  the  nation  'upon 
the  exercise  of  its  chief  and  primary  right  of  giving  or 
withholding  taxes  ; '  upon  '  a  great  subject  of  financial 
readjustment.'  '  The  rights  of  the  people,'  as  he  truly 
said,  '  in  respect  to  taxation  are  older,  higher,  clearer 
than  in  respect  to  any  other  subject  of  government.' 
He  at  the  same  time  asserted  that  his  censor  '  ought  to 
have  known,  and  to  have  stated,  that  with  the  propo- 
sal to  repeal  the  income-tax  came  a  proposal  to  recon- 
struct and  enlarge  the  death  duties.  Direct  taxation 
of  a  kind  most  vexatious  to  trade  and  industry  was  to 
be  removed — direct  taxation,  the  least  of  all  unfavour- 
able to  trade  and  industry,  .  .  .  was  to  be  imposed.' 

The  assertion  so  confidently  made  in  this  passage 
was  simply  untrue,  and  is  a  curious  instance  of  the 

'  Nineteenth  Century,  June  and  August  1887.  A  brief  article  of 
my  own  will  be  found  in  the  July  number. 


CH.  II.  THE  ELECTION  OP  1874  163 

lapse  of  memory  into  which,  by  too  hasty  writing,  its 
author  has  sometimes  been  betrayed.  No  proposal  of 
this  kind  was  made.  Mr.  Gladstone  was  obliged  in  his 
second  article  to  confess  that  on  this  point  his  memory 
had  betrayed  him,  and  that  his  critic  was  right ;  but 
he  at  once  changed  his  ground,  and  argued  that  it 
would  have  been  exceedingly  prejudicial  to  the  public 
service  if  he  had  disclosed  at  the  election  the  '  readjust- 
ment '  of  taxation  which  he  had  contemplated,  as  such 
a  disclosure  would  have  enabled  the  taxpayer  to  evade 
the  coming  burden.  '  The  disclosure  of  the  particu- 
lars of  the  plan  would  have  been  both  wholly  novel  and 
in  the  highest  degree  mischievous  to  the  public  in- 
terest.' It  is,  surely,  sufficiently  obvious  to  reply  that 
this  fact  is  a  very  conclusive  argument  against  the 
propriety  of  throwing  such  a  matter  into  an  election 
programme.  '  The  ancient  right '  of  the  people  to  be 
consulted  on  adjustments  of  taxation  can  hardly  be  very 
valuable  when  the  condition  of  the  consultation  is  that 
the  nature  of  the  adjustment  should  be  concealed. 
Stated  fully  to  the  electors,  Mr.  Gladstone's  proposal 
would,  according  to  his  own  showing,  have  defeated 
itself.  Stated  as  it  was  stated,  it  amounted  to  little 
more  than  a  naked  promise,  that  if  a  certain  class  of 
voters  would  maintain  the  Government  in  power,  they 
should  be  freed  from  a  burdensome  tax. 

But  Mr.  Gladstone  takes  a  much  higher  ground  than 
that  of  mere  apology,  and  assures  us  that  his  real  motive 
in  this  transaction  was  '  the  fulfilment  of  a  solemn  duty.' 
He  considered  the  income-tax  unjust,  unequal,  and  de- 
moralising ;  twenty-one  years  before  he  had  formed 
part  of  a  ministry  v/hich  promised  to  abolish  it.  This 
pledge,  after  a  long  slumber,  revived  in  its  full  vitality 
at  the  eve  of  the  election,  and  he  offered  the  electors 
*  thg  payment  of  a  debt  of  honour.' 


164  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  ii. 

I  have  little  doubt  that  Mr.  Gladstone  succeeded  in 
persuading  himself  that  this  mode  of  reasoning  was 
legitimate,  but  the  answer  to  it  is  very  simple.  It  was 
perfectly  open  to  him  to  have  introduced  into  Parlia- 
ment a  Budget  abolishing  the  income-tax  and  carrying 
out,  after  full  exposition  and  discussion,  such  other 
financial  arrangements  as  he  deemed  desirable.  Had 
he  pursued  this  usual  and  regular  course,  no  shadow  of 
blame  or  discredit  could  have  been  attached  to  him, 
and  he  would,  very  probably,  have  rendered  a  real  ser- 
vice to  the  country.  But  it  was  a  wholly  different 
thing  to  throw  a  half-disclosed  and  fragmentary  Bud- 
get before  the  constituencies  at  a  general  election, 
making  the  simple  abolition  of  a  specific  tax  the  main 
ground  for  asking  the  votes  of  those  who  paid  it.  A 
Minister  who,  seeing  the  popularity  of  his  Government 
visibly  declining,  determined  to  dissolve  Parliament 
before  introducing  his  Budget,  and  to  make  his  elec- 
tion-cry a  promise  to  abolish  the  chief  direct  tax  paid 
by  a  great  wavering  body  of  electors,  may  have  been 
actuated  by  no  other  object  than  '  the  fulfilment  of  a 
solemn  duty.'  But  in  ordinary  men  such  conduct  would 
imply  other  motives ;  and  such  men  undoubtedly  co- 
operated with  Mr.  Gladstone  in  the  struggle,  and  such 
men  will,  for  their  own  purposes,  follow  his  example. 
In  my  opinion,  few  worse  examples  could  have  been 
given,  and  the  constituencies  in  defeating  Mr.  Glad- 
stone at  this  election  rendered  no  small  service  to 
political  morality. 

Another  argument  of  a  curiously  ingenious  and 
characteristic  nature  must  be  noticed.  I  had  said  that 
the  meaning  of  Mr.  Gladstone's  address  was,  that  if  he 
won  the  day  the  income-tax  would  cease.  The  state- 
ment is  literally  and  incontestably  true  ;  but  Mr.  Glad- 
stone very  dexterously  met  it  by  declaring  that  it  is  an 


CH.  n.  THE  ELECTION  OF  1874  166 

entire  misrepresentation  and  an  evidence  of  extreme 
ignorance  to  describe  the  election  as  if  it  was  fought  on 
the  issue  of  the  income-tax.  It  was  not  a  question  of 
one  party  supporting  and  the  other  opposing  the  abo- 
lition. *  This  supposed  historical  fact  is  a  pure  histori- 
cal fiction.^  Both  parties  promised  the  abolition,  and 
both  parties,  therefore,  stood  on  the  same  footing. 

A  few  words  of  explanation  will,  I  think,  place  this 
matter  in  its  true  light.  When  Mr.  Gladstone  issued 
his  election  address,  Mr.  Disraeli  was  evidently  taken 
by  surprise.  He  was  much  alarmed  lest  this  novel  and 
unprecedented  course  might  produce  a  great  wave  of 
popularity,  and  sweep  the  main  body  of  income-tax- 
payers into  his  rival's  net.  He,  accordingly,  promptly 
replied  that  he  also  was  in  favour  of  the  abolition  of 
the  income-tax,  and  had  always  been  opposed  to  it. 
This  implied  promise  was  thought  by  many  good 
judges  at  the  time  to  have  been  an  exceedingly  im- 
proper one ;  and  I  am  in  no  way  bound  to  defend  it, 
though  it  is  but  justice  to  add  that  Mr.  Disraeli  stated 
that  he  was  only  in  favour  of  the  abolition  in  case  the 
surplus  was  sufficiently  large  to  make  it  possible  with- 
out the  imposition  of  fresh  taxation.^  But  surely  it  is 
mere  sophistry  to  argue  that  the  conduct  of  Mr.  Dis- 
raeli affects  the  character  of  Mr.  Gladstone's  original 
address.  Is  it  not  perfectly  notorious  that  the  popu- 
larity which  Mr.  Gladstone's  promise  was  expected  to 
produce  in  this  great  wavering  portion  of  the  constitu- 
encies was  the  element  of  success  on  which  his  follow- 
ers most  confidently  relied  ?  Did  they  not,  after  Mr. 
Disraeli's  reply,  still  urge  (and  with  much  reason)  the 
special  claim  which  Mr.  Gladstone  had  established  on 
the  voters  by  forcing  the  question  into  the  van,  and 


'  Annual  Register,  1874,  p.  9, 


166  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  ii. 

also  that  he  was  much  more  competent  than  his  rival 
to  carry  the  proposal  into  effect  ?  Is  the  fact  that  Mr. 
Gladstone's  example  was  so  speedily  followed  a  proof 
that  it  was  not  pernicious,  and  was  not  likely  to  be 
contagious  ? 

A  much  more  serious  argument  is,  that  among  the 
questions  that  have  at  different  times  been  brought, 
with  general  consent,  before  the  constituencies  there 
have  been  many,  such  as  the  abolition  of  the  Corn  Laws, 
or  local  taxation,  or  economical  reform,  in  which  a 
private  pecuniary  interest,  as  well  as  a  public  interest, 
must  have  been  presented  to  the  elector.  The  state- 
ment is  perfectly  true,  and  I  have  no  wish  to  dispute 
or  evade  its  force.  Public  and  private  interest  are, 
undoubtedly,  often  so  blended  in  politics  that  it  is  not 
possible  wholly  to  disentangle  them.  The  difference 
between  an  election  which  is  mainly  governed  by  low 
motives  of  private  interest,  and  an  election  which  is 
mainly  governed  by  high  motives  of  public  spirit,  is 
very  great,  but  it  is  essentially  a  difference  of  propor- 
tion and  degree.  All  that  can  be  said  is,  that  it  will 
depend  largely  on  a  minister  to  determine  at  an  elec- 
tion which  of  these  classes  of  motives  preponderate. 
Each  dubious  case  must  be  judged  by  the  common 
sense  of  the  community  on  its  own  merits,  and  in  the 
light  of  its  own  special  circumstances.  In  former 
days,  private  interest  was  chiefly  brought  to  bear  upon 
elections  by  the  process  of  corruption  applied  to  indi- 
vidual voters.  In  modern  days,  bribery  has  changed 
its  character,  and  is  much  more  likely  to  be  applied  to 
classes  than  to  individuals.  Manipulations  of  taxation, 
and  other  legislative  offers  dexterously  adapted  to 
catch  in  critical  times  the  votes  of  particular  sections 
of  the  electorate,  are  the  evils  which  are  chiefly  to  be 
feared,  and,  of  this  kind  of  evil,  the  course  adopted  by 


CH.  II.  THE  IRISH  LAND  QUESTION  167 

Mr.  Gladstone  in  1874  still  appears  to  me  to  have  been 
a  conspicuous  example. 

Many  other  illustrations  might  be  given.  No  one 
who  has  carefully  followed  Irish  politics  during  the 
period  of  the  Land  League  agitation  can  doubt  that 
ajipeals  to  the  cupidity  of  electors  formed  the  main- 
spring of  the  whole  machine.  Other  motives  and  ele- 
ments, no  doubt,  entered  largely  into  the  calculations 
of  the.  leaders  ;  and  with  them  a  desire  to  drive  the 
landlord  from  his  property  was  not  in  itself  an  end, 
but  rather  a  means  of  obtaining  political  ascendency 
and  separation  from  England.  But  it  is  notorious 
that  the  effectual  inducement  they  held  out  to  the 
great  body  of  the  farming  class  to  support  them  was 
the  persuasion  that  it  was  possible  by  the  use  of  po- 
litical means  to  break  contracts,  lower  rents,  and 
confiscate  property.  Nor  pan  it  be  denied  that  the 
legislation  of  the  Imperial  Parliament  has  gone  a  long 
way  to  justify  their  prevision. 

I  do  not  include  in  this  charge  the  Land  Act  of 
1870,  which  appears  to  me  to  have  been,  in  its  main 
lines,  though  not  in  all  its  parts,  a  wise  and  compre- 
hensive effort  to  deal  with  one  of  the  most  difficult  and 
complicated  questions  that  have  appeared  in  English 
politics.  The  elements  of  the  problem  were  very 
numerous.  There  was  the  imperfect  sympathy  be- 
tween the  land-owning  and  land-cultivating  classes, 
arising  originally  from  historical  causes,  from  differ- 
ences of  religion,  politics,  and,  in  some  degree,  of  race, 
and  in  modern  times  strengthened  by  the  Famine  and 
the  Encumbered  Estates  Act,  which  created  a  multi- 
tude of  new  landlords,  largely  drawn  from  the  trading 
classes,  who  had  no  knowledge  of  the  traditions  and 
customs  of  the  estates  they  acquired,  and  who  often 
purchased  with  borrowed  money  and  as  a  commercial 


168  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  il 

investment.  Improvements,  too,  in  Ireland  were  for 
the  most  part  made  by  the  tenant,  and  not  by  the  land- 
lord ;  and  although  the  rents  were  in  general  propor- 
tionately lower  than  in  England,  although  on  most  old 
estates  a  long  tenure  at  low  rents  amply  compensated 
the  tenant  for  his  outlay,  there  were,  undoubtedly, 
cases  where  the  advent  of  a  new  proprietor,  or  a  sudden 
rise  in  rents  or  depreciation  in  values,  led  to  a  virtual 
confiscation  of  tenants'  improvements.  Leases  had 
been  for  some  years  diminishing,  and  tenancies  at  will 
became  general.  The  custom  of  tenant-right  was  gen- 
eral in  TJlster  and  occasional  in  other  provinces,  though 
it  subsisted  without  the  smallest  sanction  or  protection 
of  the  law.  Usage  unsanctioned  by  law  played  a  large 
part  in  Irish  agrarian  life ;  and  there  was  a  bad  cus- 
tom of  allowing  rents  to  be  paid,  in  many  parts  of  the 
country,  with  extreme  irregularity,  according  to  the 
good  or  bad  seasons,  and  leaving  the  arrears  of  many 
years  outstanding,  not  claimed,  and  not  wiped  away. 
It  must  be  added,  that  the  small  number  of  manufac- 
tures had  thrown  the  population,  to  an  unhealthy 
extent,  for  subsistence  on  the  soil ;  that  political  agita- 
tion had  already  done  much  to  inflame  class  animosi- 
ties and  accentuate  class  divisions,  and  that  there  were 
grave  faults  on  both  sides.  Wretched  farming  ;  thrift- 
less, extravagant,  unbusinesslike  habits  in  all  classes  ; 
a  great  want  of  enterprise  and  steady  industry  ;  much 
neglect  of  duty,  and  occasional,  though  not,  I  think, 
frequent,  acts  of  oppression  and  extortion,  all  contri- 
buted to  complicate  the  task  of  the  legislator. 

In  my  own  opinion,  it  should  have  been  his  object  to 
secure  to  the  tenants  compensation  for  all  future  im- 
provements ;  to  bring  back  by  special  inducements  a 
land  system  resting  on  definite  written  contracts  ;  to 
give  legal  character  to  tenant-right  when  it  was  gener- 


CH.  11.  TENANTS'  IMPROVEMENTS.  •     169 

ally  acknowledged ;  and  to  assist  by  Government 
measures  in  the  formation  of  a  peasant  proprietary,  or, 
what  was  politically  scarcely  less  valuable,  of  a  class  of 
tenants  holding  land  for  ever  at  a  low  fixed  rent. 

The  question  of  tenants'  improvements  especially 
was  of  vital  importance,  and  it  is  one  of  the  most  real 
of  Irish  grievances  that  Parliament,  in  spite  of  the 
clearest  warnings,  so  long  neglected  to  attend  to  it. 

Some  years  before  the  Famine  Sharman  Crawford 
had  devoted  himself  with  much  zeal  to  the  subject, 
and  had  repeatedly  brought  into  the  House  of  Com- 
mons a  Bill  which  would  have  effectually  met  it. 
He  proposed  that  when  a  tenant  made  improvements 
which  were  of  a  nature  to  produce  an  increased  rent, 
and  which  had  not  been  included  in  the  terms  of  his 
existing  lease,  these  improvements  should  be  duly  va- 
lued ;  that  the  tenant,  at  the  expiry  of  his  term,  should 
have  the  right  to  claim  either  immediate  money  com- 
pensation from  the  landlord  or  a  prolongation  of  his 
tenancy  ;  and  that,  in  fixing  the  new  rent,  the  value  of 
the  unremunerated  improvements  should  be  taken  into 
account,  so  that  the  tenant  might  be  repaid  for  them 
in  the  course  of  the  succeeding  tenancy.^ 

The  Devon  Commissioners,  who  sat  under  a  com- 
mission ordered  at  the  end  of  1843,  collected  a  great 
deal  of  valuable  information  on  the  subject,  and  treated 
it  in  an  eminently  judicial  spirit.  They  acknowledged 
that  '  there  had  not  been  brought  many  cases  to  show 
that  it  had  been  the  practice  of  land-proprietors  to 
take  advantage  of  improving  tenants  who  had  in- 
vested money  without  a  lease  or  other  security.''  They 
acknowledged  also,  that  '  it  had  not  been  shown  that 


'  See  the  Digest  of  the  Evidence  of  the  Devon  Commission^  pt.  i. 
164-66. 


170    '  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  en.  ii. 

tenants  possessing  long  and  beneficial  leases  of  the 
lands  had  in  general  brought  them  to  a  high  state  of 
improvement ; '  that,  in  fact,  there  was  evidence  '  that 
lands  let  upon  very  long  terms,  and  at  very  low  rents, 
were  in  a  worse  condition,  and  their  occupiers  even 
more  embarrassed,  than  others/  On  the  other  hand, 
they  urged  that  cases  of  the  confiscation  of  tenants' 
improvements  had  occurred  ;  that  a  tenant  at  will  or  a 
tenant  with  a  very  short  lease  was  always  liable  to 
them  ;  that  '  a  single  instance  occurring  in  a  large  dis- 
trict would  naturally  paralyse  exertion  to  an  incalcula- 
ble extent ; '  that  the  possibility  and  extreme  facility  of 
such  confiscation  in  the  existing  state  of  the  law  was  a 
gross  injustice  to  the  tenant,  discouraged  in  the  most 
powerful  manner  a  kind  of  investment  which  was  na- 
turally very  profitable  both  to  the  tenant  class  and  to 
agriculture  in  general,  and  directly  or  indirectly  con- 
tributed largely  to  most  of  the  social  evils  of  Ireland. 
They  recommended,  as  of  the  highest  importance  to 
Ireland,  a  law  giving  tenants  in  the  future  compensa- 
tion for  permanent  and  productive  improvements,  and 
framed  upon  the  following  principles.  Agreements 
between  landlord  and  tenant  relative  to  such  improve- 
ments were  to  be  duly  registered,  and,  in  cases  where 
it  was  found  impossible  to  arrive  at  such  agreement, 
a  tenant  was  to  serve  a  notice  on  the  landlord  of  his 
intention  to  make  suitable  improvements.  Mutually 
chosen  arbitrators  were  to  report  upon  them,  and  the 
assistant  barrister,  after  such  report,  and  after  exami- 
nation, was  to  certify  the  maximum  cost,  not  exceed- 
ing three  years'  rent.  If  the  tenant  was  ejected,  or  if 
his  rent  was  raised  within  thirty  years,  the  landlord 
was  to  pay  such  a  sum,  not  exceeding  the  maximum 
fixed,  as  the  work  shall  be  then  valued  at.  The  im- 
provements were  to  be  completed  within  a  limited  time. 


CH.  II.  THE  LAND  ACT  OF  1860  171 

and  the  landlord  was  to  have  the  option  of  making 
them  himself,  charging  5  per  cent,  on  the  outlay.^ 

A  Government  measnre  based  on  this  report  was  in- 
troduced by  Lord  Stanley,  in  a  speech  of  great  power, 
in  1845,  and  by  Lord  Lincoln  in  1846.  In  the  first 
oase  it  was  abandoned  in  the  face  of  very  determined 
opposition.  In  the  second,  it  fell  through  on  account 
of  the  overthrow  of  the  Government  of  Sir  Eobert 
Peel,  which  had  introduced  it.  Several  attempts  in 
the  same  direction  were  made  in  the  following  years, 
the  most  remarkable  being  the  Bill  of  Mr.  Napier,  the 
Irish  Attorney-General  of  Lord  Derby's  Government,  in 
1852,  which  had  a  retrospective  character  applying  to 
all  past  improvements.  None  of  these  measures,  how- 
ever, ultimately  succeeded,  and  the  advice  of  the  Devon 
Commission  was  neglected. 

Besides  the  question  of  improvements,  it  was  clearly 
recognised  that  something  must  be  done  to  prevent  the 
too  frequent  evictions,  or  threatened  evictions,  and  the 
Land  Act  of  1860  did  something  in  this  direction. 
This  Act,  which  was  passed  by  a  Liberal  Government, 
aflEirmed  in  the  clearest  terms  that  the  relations  of  land- 
lord and  tenant  in  Ireland  rested  solely  '  on  the  express 
or  implied  contract  of  the  parties,  and  not  upon  tenure 
or  service  ; '  but  it  at  the  same  time  provided  that  the 
landlord  could  bring  no  ejectment  for  non-payment  of 
rent  till  a  year's  rent  under  the  contract  of  tenancy 
was  in  arrear  ;  and  that,  even  after,  the  ejectment  had 
taken  place,  and  the  landlord  was  in  possession  of  the 
farm,  the  tenant  might  apply  to  the  court  for  his  rein- 
statement if,  within  six  months  after  his  ejection,  he 
paid  his  rent  and  costs.     A  clause  which  appears  to 


'  Digest  of  the  Evidence  of  the  Devon  Commission^  pt.  ii.  1124- 
1125. 


172  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  n. 

have  been  imitated  from  the  French  Civil  Code  ^  au- 
thorised the  tenant  to  remove  '  all  personal  chattels, 
engines,  machinery,  and  buildings  accessorial  thereto 
affixed  to  the  freehold  by  the  tenant  at  his  own  ex- 
pense,' provided  this  could  be  done  without  injuring 
the  freehold  as  it  existed  when  he  first  received  it ;  and 
another  clause  established  the  right  of  the  tenant  to 
cut  turf,  in  the  absence  of  any  express  agreement 
to  the  contrary,  on  any  unreclaimed  turf  bog  on  his 
tenancy.  It  may  be  added,  that  Acts  of  the  old  Irish 
Parliament  had  long  since  given  the  leaseholder  a  right 
of  property  in  the  trees  he  had  planted,  provided  they 
were  duly  registered. 

The  very  comprehensive  and  elaborate  Act  of  1870 
went  much  further,  and  it  was  inspired  by  an  evident 
desire  to  do  justice  to  all  parties  ;  though,  in  the  vast 
range  of  its  provisions,  there  were  some  which  have 
proved  prolific  in  dangerous  consequences  not,  I  believe, 
clearly  foreseen  by  its  authors.  One  valuable  portion 
of  the  Act  followed  and  extended  the  policy,  which  had 
been  adopted  in  the  Church  Act,  of  endeavouring  to 
create  a  peasant  proprietary.  It  authorised  advances 
not  exceeding  two-thirds  of  the  purchase  money,  and 
repayable  by  an  annuity  of  5  per  cent,  in  thirty-five 
years,  to  any  tenant  who  desired  to  purchase  his  hold- 
ing. Another  portion  recognised,  in  the  largest  and 
fullest  terms,  the  right  of  the  tenant  to  compensation 
for  his  improvements,  which  are  defined  as  works  add- 
ing to  the  letting  value  of  the  holding,  and  suitable  to 
it,  and  also  to  his  crops  and  his  unexhausted  manure. 
This  right  was  not  destroyed  by  an  ejection  for  non- 
payment of  rent.  It  was  not  confined  to  improvements 
made  subsequent  to  the  Act.     With  certain   clearly 


'  See  Richey  on  The  Irish  Land  Laws^  pp.  50-51. 


CH.  II.  THE  LAND  ACT  OP  1870  173 

defined  exceptions,  it  applied  to  all  improvements  made 
by  the  tenant  or  his  predecessors  in  title.  In  tlie  case 
of  permanent  buildings  and  reclamation  of  waste  land 
there  was  no  limit  of  time.  In  the  case  of  other  im- 
provements there  was  a  limit  of  twenty  years.  It  was 
enacted  that  improvements,  except  in  certain  specified 
instances,  should  be  deemed  to  have  been  made  by 
the  tenant  or  his  predecessors,  unless  the  contrary  had 
been  proved,  thus  reversing  the  old  legal  presumption 
that  whatever  is  added  to  the  soil  belongs  to  the  land- 
lord. Durable  and  written  contracts  and  tenant-right 
were  encouraged  by  clauses  limiting  the  improvements 
for  which  a  landlord  was  liable  whenever  he  granted  a 
long  lease,  and  permitting  a  departing  tenant  to  dis- 
pose of  the  interests  of  his  improvements  to  an  incom- 
ing tenant  on  terms  that  were  approved  of  by  the 
court. 

The  Ulster  tenant-right — or,  in  other  words,  the 
right  of  a  tenant  to  sell  his  interest  in  his  farm — re- 
ceived the  force  of  law,  and  it  was  extended  to  all  parts 
of  Ireland.  In  Ulster  the  existing  tenants  had  pur- 
chased their  tenant-right,  and  they  only  obtained  legal 
security  for  what  was  already  theirs  by  usage.  In  the 
other  parts  of  Ireland  a  saleable  property  which  they 
had  not  bought  was  conferred  upon  them.  One  conse- 
quence of  this  was,  that  the  boon  was  a  much  greater 
one  to  the  first  generation  of  tenants,  who  received  it 
as  a  gift,  than  it  was  likely  to  be  to  their  successors, 
who  would  in  due  course  purchase  their  tenant-right. 
Another  consequence,  which  was  probably  not  foreseen, 
was  that  the  tenants  borrowed  largely  on  their  new  se- 
curity ;  and  it  was  from  this  time  that  the  '  gombeen 
man,'  or.local  usurer,  obtained  his  great  prominence  in 
Irish  life.  A  provision,  to  which,  I  believe,  there  was 
then  no  parallel  in  the  legislation  of  the  world,  provid- 


174  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  ii. 

ed  that  a  tenant  who  had  accepted  a  tenancy  from  year 
to  year  could  not  be  removed,  except  at  a  ruinous  cost, 
at  the  date  at  which  his  tenancy  was  terminable.  Ex- 
cept in  case  of  non-payment  of  rent,  bankruptcy,  or 
violation  of  specified  conditions  of  tenancy,  the  land- 
lord had  no  power  of  resuming  possession  of  his  land 
without  paying  the  tenant  a  fine  for  'disturbance,' 
which  might,  in  some  cases,  amount  to  seven  years' 
rent.  It  will  be  observed  that  this  '  disturbance '  was 
not  an  illegal  act.  It  was  simply  the  enforcement  by 
the  landlord  of  a  plain  and  incontestable  right  secured 
to  him  by  the  contract  under  which  he  freely  parted 
from  his  land.  As  Judge  Longfield  has  observed,  it 
was  possible  for  a  landlord  under  this  law  to  put  a  ten- 
ant in  possession  as  tenant  from  year  to  year,  to  leave 
him  in  the  enjoyment  of  it  for  five  years,  and  then  to 
be  obliged  to  pay  him  seven  years'  rent  as  a  fine  for 
removing  him  from  it.^  This  compensation  was  quite 
distinct  from  that  given  for  improvements  in  the  shape 
of  permanent  buildings  or  reclamation  of  the  soil.  A 
landlord  might,  however,  free  himself  from  this  claim 
by  giving  a  long  lease. 

The  statesman  who  introduced  the  Act  very  clearly 
stated  that  it  was  not  intended  to  give  the  tenant  at 
will  a  proprietary  right  in  his  holding,  but  the  provi- 
sions relating  to  disturbance  plainly  and  unquestion- 
ably had  this  effect.  Some  faint  and  distant  analogy 
may  be  discovered  between  this  legislation  and  the  Eng- 
lish tenure  of  copyhold,  which  grew  out  of  tenancies 
at  will  that  had  existed  undisturbed  in  the  same  fa- 
milies for  many  generations,  and  which  the  law  at  last 
recognised  as  a  permanent  tenure,  to  be  enjoyed  by  the 
tenants  and  their  heirs,  subject  to  the  conditions  pre- 


'  Systems  of  Land  Tenure  (Cobden  Club),  p.  78. 


OH.  11.  THE  LAND  ACT  OF  1870  175 

scribed  by  immemorial  custom  in  the  manor.  The 
Irish  law,  however,  applied  to  the  newest  as  well  as  to 
the  oldest  tenancies.  It  was  defended,  partly  on  the 
ground  that  usage  in  most  parts  of  Ireland  made  a 
yearly  tenant  secure  that  he  would  continue  undis- 
turbed in  his  tenancy  as  long  as  he  paid  his  rent ; 
partly  as  a  measure  intended  to  discourage  the  great 
political  evil  of  unnecessary  evictions ;  partly  on  the 
ground  that  it  was  likely  to  be  beneficial  to  both  land- 
lord and  tenant,  by  giving  the  tenant  strong  additional 
reasons  for  punctually  observing  the  conditions  of  his 
tenancy.  It  was  said  that  it  merely  gave  the  tenant 
of  a  bad  landlord  the  security  which  the  tenant  of  a 
good  landlord  already  enjoyed,  and  that,  in  the  case  of 
small  farmers,  an  increased  stability  of  tenure  would 
be  not  only  a  great  political  advantage,  but  also  a  great 
incentive  to  better  agriculture.  Even  eviction  for  non- 
payment of  rent  might  be  deemed  a  '  disturbance  '  es- 
tablishing a  claim  for  compensation  if,  in  the  opinion 
of  the  Land  Court,  the  rent  was  an  exorbitant  one,  or 
if  the  arrears  that  were  demanded  had  not  wholly  ac- 
crued within  the  previous  three  years.  The  right  of 
compensation  for  disturbance  applied  to  all  tenancies 
from  year  to  year,  or  held  on  leases  for  less  than  thirty- 
one  years  created  after  the  Act  had  passed,  and  also  to 
all  tenancies  from  year  to  year  existing  when  the  Act 
was  passed  which  were  under  the  value  of  lOOZ.  a  year. 
The  Legislature  considered,  with  some  reason,  that 
the  smaller  tenants  were  too  poor  to  make  their  own 
bargains.  Agreements  between  landlord  and  tenant, 
under  which  the  latter  gave  up  their  rights  to  certain 
privileges  granted  by  the  Act,  were  in  a  large  number 
of  cases  made  null  and  void.  These  clauses  prohibiting 
grown-up  men  from  making  their  own  bargains  have 
been   the  fruitful  parents  of  much  later  legislation. 


176  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY  ch.  n. 

The  principle  passed  into  England  in  the  Ground 
Game  Act  of  1880,  which  made  it  impossible  for  an 
English  tenant  to  divest  himself  by  agreement  with  the 
landlord  of  the  right  of  killing  hares  and  rabbits  ;  and 
a  tendency  to  introduce  the  same  principle  of  compul- 
sion into  the  largest  possible  number  of  contracts 
relating  to  land  and  trade  seems  fast  becoming  a  dis- 
tinctive feature  of  advanced  English  Liberalism. 

The  Irish  Land  Act  of  1870^  in  its  consequences,  was 
certainly  one  of  the  most  important  measures  of  the 
present  century.  It  appears  to  me  to  have  been  intro- 
duced with  much  integrity  of  motive,  and  in  many  of 
its  parts  it  proved  very  beneficial.  The  recognition  of 
a  tenant^s  right  to  the  improvements  he  had  made ; 
the  recognition  of  the  Ulster  tenant-right ;  the  en- 
couragement given  to  the  substitution  of  written  leases 
and  contracts  for  the  system  of  tenants  at  will ;  the 
measures  taken  to  create  a  peasant  proprietary,  were 
all  marked  with  much  wisdom.  Capricious  notices  to 
quit,  or  notices  to  quit  given  for  the  mere  purpose  of 
accelerating  the  payment  of  rent,  were  discouraged  by 
the  imposition  of  a  stamp  duty,  and  there  was  a  useful 
provision  granting  loans  of  public  money  for  the  re- 
clamation of  waste  land.  I  cannot,  however,  reconcile 
with  the  rights  of  property  the  retrospective  clause 
making  a  landlord  liable  for  improvements  made  by 
tenants  at  a  time  when  no  such  liability  was  recognised 
by  law,  and  with  a  clear  knowledge  of  that  fact ;  and 
the  clause  giving  a  yearly  tenant  compensation  for 
simple  disturbance  if  he  was  removed  at  the  end  of  the 
year  seems  to  me  essentially  dishonest,  and  the  germ  of 
much  evil  that  followed.  It  was  not  altogether  a  new 
importation  into  Irish  politics.  In  1866,  Sir  Colman 
O'Loughlin  brought  in  a  Bill  for  discouraging  annual 
letting  and  precarious  tenancies,  and  one  of  its  clauses 


CH.  II.  IMPROVEMENTS  AND  RENTS  177 

gave  compensation  to  a  yearly  tenant  if  he  was  ejected 
for  any  other  cause  than  nonpayment  of  rent.  This 
Bill  was  thrown  out  by  a  large  majority.* 

It  is  probable  that  the  Act  of  1870  would  have  been 
more  successful  if  it  had  been  less  ambitious,  and 
had  aimed  at  a  smaller  number  of  objects.  The  diffi- 
culty, however,  of  the  task  was  extremely  great,  and 
much  allowance  must  be  made  for  the  statesmen  who 
framed  it.  The  two  features  of  the  old  Irish  land 
system  which  made  the  position  of  the  Irish  tenant 
most  precarious  were  the  general  absence  of  leases,  and 
the  custom  of  the  tenant,  not  the  landlord,  making 
most  improvements.  Neither  of  these  points  was,  in 
most  cases,  a  matter  of  much  dispute  between  landlord 
and  tenant.  Those  who  are  best  acquainted  with  the 
conditions  of  Irish  land  before  the  recent  legislation 
will,  I  believe,  agree  with  me  that  the  majority  of 
smaller  tenants  preferred  a  yearly  tenancy,  which  was 
rarely  changed,  to  a  definite  lease,  which  usually  in- 
volved stricter  covenants,  and  was  likely  when  it  ex- 
pired to  be  followed  by  a  revaluation  and  rise  of  rents  ; 
and  that  they  preferred  making  their  improvements  in 
their  own  economical,  and  generally  slovenly,  way, 
rather  than  have  them  made  in  the  English  fashion  by 
the  landlord,  who  compensates  himself  by  adding  a 
percentage  to  the  rent.  If  the  rent  is  sufficiently  low, 
and  the  tenure  sufficiently  long  to  compensate  the 
tenant  for  his  outlay,  there  is  nothing  in  this  system 
that  is  unjust ;  nor  is  it  unjust  that,  after  the  tenant 
has  been  so  compensated,  the  land  should  be  rented  ac- 
cording to  its  improved  value.  But  it  is  easy  to  under- 
stand how  this  custom  strengthened  that  notion  of  the 
joint  ownership  of  the  soil  which  had  such  a  deep  root 


*  See  Sir  William  Gregory's  Autobiography^  p.  243. 
vou  I.  IS 


178  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  ii. 

among  Irish  ideas.  In  many  of  the  poorer  parts  of 
Ireland  the  cabin  built  by  the  peasant,  the  clearing  of 
stonesj  and  the  erecting  of  fences,  constituted  much 
the  greater  part  of  the  value  of  the  farm.  These  little 
farms  of  barren  land  were,  indeed,  essentially  unsup- 
porting.  They  furnished  the  small  tenant  with  shel- 
ter and  with  potatoes  for  his  subsistence.  His  rent, 
which  was  usually  not  more  than  about  4/.  a  year,  and 
very  irregularly  paid,  was  earned  sometimes  by  fishing, 
more  frequently  as  a  migratory  labourer,  and  often  by 
harvest- work  in  England  or  Scotland. 

In  the  fertile  districts  the  conditions  were  different 
and  very  various.  Probably  the  greater  number  of  the 
original  improvements  had  been  made  under  the  old 
system  of  very  long  leases  at  very  low  rents.  In  many 
eases  the  erection  of  certain  buildings  was  expressly 
stipulated  in  the  lease,  and  was  one  of  the  elements  in 
regulating  the  price.  A  great  part  of  the  cost  of 
drainage  which  has  been  made  under  Government 
loans  has  been  paid  by  the  landlords,  and  in  very  many 
cases  they  have  contributed  a  proportion  to  the  cost  of 
buildings ;  but,  as  a  general  rule,  the  improvements 
were  made  by  the  tenant,  under  the  belief  that  he 
would  enjoy  his  tenancy  for  a  sufficient  time  and  at  a 
sufficiently  low  rent  to  compensate  him  for  them.  The 
immense  deterioration  of  Irish  land  through  bad  and 
wasteful  farming  forms,  however,  a  considerable  offset 
against  these  improvements. 

That  rents  in  Ireland  before  1870  were  not  in  general 
extortionate,  and  were,  indeed,  much  below  the  compe- 
tition value,  is  abundantly  proved.'    It  is  proved  by  the 


'  Comparisons  between  Irish  and  payment  for  improvements, 
and  British  rents  are  apt  to  be  The  following  passage,  how- 
very  fallacious,  on  account  of  ever,  from  a  pamphlet  by  one  of 
the  different  systems  of  farming  the  greatest  modern  authorities 


CH.  II.  IRISH  RENTS  179 

fact  that  wherever  tenant  right  was  permitted  this  right 
of  occupation  sold  for  a  hirge  sum  ;  by  the  fact  that 
wherever  subletting  was  permitted  the  tenant  almost 
invariably  let  the  whole,  or  portions  of  his  tenancy,  at 
much  higher  rents  than  he  paid.  It  is  proved  by  the 
evidence  of  men  of  the  greatest  authority  on  Irish 
land,  such  as  Judge  Longfield  and  Master  Fitzgibbon, 
and  by  the  direct  testimony  of  the  Bessborough  Com- 
mission in  1881,  which,  after  a  long  and  careful  inves- 
tigation, arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  in  Ireland  it 
was  'unusual  to  exact  what  in  England  would  have 
been  considered  as  a  full  and  fair  commercial  rent."^ 
It  is  proved  by  comparison  with  English  and  with 
foreign  rents,  and  by  the  slow  increase  of  Irish  rents, 
as  compared  both  with  the  prices  of  the  chief  articles 
of  agricultural  produce  and  with  the  increase  of  rents 
in  other  parts  of  the  kingdom.  Arthur  Young,  in  his 
day,    considered    the   rents   paid   in    Ireland    to    the 


on  statistics,  may  be  gixon  :  '  Be-  celui  des  terres  des  Flandres  ' 
fore  the  period  of  distress,'  {L'Trlande,  le  Canada,  Jersey 
writes  Sir  Edwin  Chadwick  in  (1881),  p.  138). 
188(>,  '  the  rents  in  Ireland  ap-  '  See  RepoH  of  the  Inquiry 
peared  to  aA'erage  15s.  an  acre  into  the  Working  of  the  Land- 
for  tillage  land  (it  is  now  de-  lord  and  Tenant  Act,  1870,  p. 
clared  to  be  on  an  average  un-  8 ;  Jndge  Longfield's  essay,  in 
der  10s.)  ;  in  England,  23s.  an  the  Cobden  Club  volume,  on 
acre.  In  Scotland,  on  inferior  '  Systems  of  Land  Tenure ; ' 
tillage  lands  to  those  of  Eng-  '  Fitzgibbon's  Ireland  in  1868, 
land,  the  rents  were  40s.  and  pp.  2G8-70.  Judge  Longfield 
more'  (Chadwick's  Alternative  was  for  many  years  judge  of 
Remedies  for  Ireland,  p.  19).  the  Landed  Estates  Court,  and 
On  the  comparison  between  probably  the  first  authority  on 
Irish  and  foreign  rents  I  may  land  in  Ireland.  The  authority 
cite  M.  Molinari,  one  of  the  of  Master  Fitzgibbon  is  scarcely 
most  competent  judges  on  the  less,  for  as  Master  of  Chan- 
Continent.  His  conclusion  is  :  eery  he  had  for  many  years  no 
'  Le  taux  general  des  rentes  est  less  than  452  estates,  with  more 
modere ;  autant  que  j'ai  pu  en  than  18,000  tenants  and  a  rental 
juger,  il  est  a  qualite  egale  de  of  more  than  330,000/.,  under 
terrain,  de  moitie  plus  bas  que  his  jurisdiction. 


180  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  ii. 

owner  of  land  unduly,  and  often  absurdly,  low  ;  and  in 
bringing  in  the  Land  Bill  of  1870,  Mr.  Gladstone 
stated  that,  in  the  ninety  years  that  had  elapsed  since 
Arthur  Young  wrote,  the  rents  of  Ireland  had  Just 
doubled,  and,  if  Ulster  were  excluded,  had  much  less 
than  doubled,  while  in  ninety-eight  years  the  rental  of 
England  had  trebled,  and  in  ninety-nine  years  the 
rental  of  Scotland  had  sextupled.^  If  we  take  a  shorter 
period,  and  a  period  of  great  prosperity,  we  shall  come 
to  much  the  same  conclusion.  Mr.  Caird,  who  is  one 
of  the  best  modern  authorities  on  agriculture,  com- 
puted that  in  the  seven  years  before  1869  'the  land 
rental  of  England  has  risen  7  per  cent.,  that  of  Scot- 
land 8  per  cent.,  while  that  of  Ireland  appears  in  the 
same  time  to  have  advanced,  from  its  lowest  point,  not 
more  than  5^  per  cent.'  ^  Taking  Ireland,  indeed,  as  a 
whole,  it  is  probably  the  portion  of  the  United  King- 
dom in  which  the  benefit  of  the  great  rise  in  the  price 
of  agricultural  produce  in  the  third  quarter  of  the 
nineteenth  century  has  fallen  most  largely  to  the 
labourers  and  tenants,  and  in  the  smallest  degree  to 
the  landlords.^ 

But  although  it  is  not  true  that  Irish  rents  were  in 
general  unduly  high,  it  is  true  that  the  position  of  the 
great  body  of  the  Irish  tenants  was  utterly  jDrecarious  ; 
that  in  three  provinces  of  Ireland  many  causes  had 
conspired  to  break   down  the  good  feeling  between 


'  See  Mr.  Gladstone's  pub-  prices  of  the  cattle  and  dairy 
lished  speech  on  introducing  the  products  which  Ireland  pro- 
Land  Bill  of  1870,  pp.  26-27.  duces;  '    and  he   adds  :     '  The 

^  The  Irish  Land  Question,  farmer  and  the  labourer  to- 
by James  Caird  (1869),  p.  15.  gether    have,   in   fact,    had  all 

^  Sir  R.  Giffen  speaks  of  '  the  the  benefit  of  the  rise  in  agri- 

stationariness   of  rents   in  Ire-  cultural    prices '    {Progress    of 

land  for  a  long  period,  notvrith-  the  Working  Classes  in  the  last 

standing  the   great   rise  in  the  Half -century). 


CH.  11.  IRISH  RENTS  181 

landlord  and  tenant  which  was  essential  to  a  sound 
agrarian  state ;  and  that  cases  of  gross  oppression  and 
extortion,  though  they  were  a  small  minority,  did 
exist,  and  were  not  infrequent.  Subletting,  it  is  true, 
had  much  diminished,  and  with  it  the  chief  cause  of 
extravagant  rents.  No  fact  is  more  clearly  stamped 
upon  every  page  of  Irish  agrarian  history  than  that  men 
of  the  farmer  class  have  always  been  far  harsher  masters 
than  men  of  the  gentleman  class ;  and  in  these  latter 
days  there  have  been  instances  of  tenants  holding  at 
very  moderate  rents  under  the  landlord,  and  actually 
having  their  rents  reduced  by  the  Land  Court,  at  the 
very  time  when  they  were  themselves  extorting  for 
portions  of  the  same  land  extreme  rack  rents  from  their 
labourers.  To  no  spot  of  the  globe,  indeed,  is  the 
parable  of  the  servant  who,  having  been  forgiven  his 
debt  by  his  own  master,  exacted  the  last  penny  from 
his  fellow-servant,  more  applicable  than  to  Ireland. 

But  among  rents  paid  to  the  actual  owner  of  the  soil 
two  classes  were  often  extortionate.  There  were  small 
properties  in  the  hands  of  men  of  narrow  means,  either 
of  the  trading  or  farming  classes,  and  there  were 
tracts — often  extensive  tracts — which  had  been  bought 
by  speculators  under  the  Incumbered  Estates  Act, 
usually  with  borrowed  money.  There  were  cases  in 
which  the  purchasers  at  once  sought,  by  extensive 
clearances  and  greatly  raised  rents,  to  recoup  them- 
selves for  their  outlay.  In  the  sale  of  these  estates  the 
tenants  had  usually  been  unprotected  by  lease.  The 
law  under  which  the  estates  had  been  sold  recognised 
in  them  no  right  in  their  improvements,  and  rents 
were  sometimes  raised,  in  estates  which  had  derived 
most  of  their  value  from  recent  tenants'  improvements, 
in  a  manner  that  was  positively  fraudulent.  The  pur- 
chaser thought  only  of  his  legal   rights.     He  knew 


182  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  ii. 

nothing  and  he  cared  nothing  about  the  history  of  his 
property.^  Sometimes,  too,  on  older  estates,  j^articuhxr 
farms  might  be  found  rented  at  a  strangely  higher  rate 
than  those  around  them.  The  explanation  is,  usually, 
that  these  rents  had  formerly  been  paid  to  a  middle- 
man, and  had  not  been  revised  when  the  middleman 
was  removed. 

The  Act  of  1870  had  many  merits,  but  it  admitted, 
as  I  believe,  a  dangerous  and  dishonest  principle.  The 
Act  of  1881  appears  to  me  one  of  the  most  unquestion- 
able, and  indeed  extreme,  violations  of  the  rights  of 
property  in  the  whole  history  of  English  legislation. 
In  order  to  realise  its  character  it  is  only  necessary  to 
remember  that  before  the  legislation  of  Mr.  Gladstone 
the  ownership  of  land  in  Ireland  was,  like  that  in 
France  and  in  America,  as  absolute  and  undisputed  as 
the  ownership  of  a  house,  or  a  horse,  or  a  yacht.  The 
Incumbered  Estates  Act,  and  all  the  proceedings  con- 
nected with  it,  brought  this  fact  into  the  clearest  re- 
lief. It  had  been  the  policy  of  the  Whig  Government, 
supported  in  its  day  by  the  loud  applause  of- the  Li- 
beral party,  to  place  landed  property  in  Ireland  on  the 
strictest  commercial  basis.  The  measure  was  carried 
in  1849,  at  a  time  when  Ireland  was  reduced  to  the 
lowest  depths  of  misery  by  the  great  Famine,  and  when 
the  newly  imposed  poor  law  in  many  cases  equalled,  in 
some  cases  even  exceeded,  the  whole  valuation  income 
of  an  estate,  and  it  was  pressed  on  by  the  Liberal  party 
with  extreme  harshness,  to  the  ruin  of  countless  land- 
lords and  creditors. 

By  this  Act,  at  a  time  when  Irish  land  had  sunk  to 
a  mere  fraction  of  its  normal  value,  the  first  incum- 


'  See  some  good  remarks  on  this  subject  by  Sir  W.  Gregory, 
Autobiography^  pp.  167-59. 


CH.  II.  THE  INCUMBERED  ESTATES  ACT  183 

brancer  of  an  estate,  or  any  other  creditor  who  believed 
that  the  estate  would  fetch  a  price  large  enough  to 
meet  the  payment  of  his  own  demand,  might  force  the 
estate  by  a  summary  proceeding,  and  before  a  newly 
constituted  court,  into  the  market,  utterly  regardless 
of  the  interests  of  the  other  creditors  and  of  the  owner. 
Every  creditor  except  the  petitioner  who  was  forcing 
the  sale  was  at  liberty  to  bid  ;  and  even  the  petitioner, 
by  leave  of  the  court  (which  was  easily  procured), 
might  become  the  purchaser  of  the  depreciated  pro- 
perty. '  By  this  new  process,'  writes  a  very  competent 
lawyer,  '  estates  were  sold  to  the  amount  of  many  mil- 
lions, during  the  years  1849,  1850,  1851,  and  1852,  for 
less  than  half  their  value,  and  less  than  half  the  prices 
which  the  same  estates  would  bring  had  the  sale  been 
deferred  till  the  end  of  1863.  Some  of  the  most  an- 
cient and  respected  families  in  the  country,  whose  es- 
tates were  not  incumbered  to  much  more  than  half 
their  value,  were  sold  out  and  beggared  ;  thousands 
of  creditors  whose  demands  would  have  been  paid  if 
the  sales  had  not  been  accelerated  were  not  reached, 
^nd  lost  the  money  which  they  had  lent  upon  what  was 
ample  security  at  the  time  it  was  lent,  and  would  again 
have  become  sufficient  security  had  the  property  not 
been  ruined  by  the  poor  law  and  sold  in  that  ruined 
condition,  in  a  glutted  market,  undex  an  enactment 
devised  for  the  professed  purpose  of  improving  the  con- 
dition of  Ireland.  The  law's  delay,  which  in  ordinary 
circumstances  is  a  grievance  and  a  vexation,  would 
have  had  a  salutary  and  a  just  effect  in  those  calami- 
tous times.  There  was  no  justice  in  exonerating  the 
early  incumbrancers  from  all  participation  in  the  ef- 
fects of  the  visitation  which  had  come  upon  the  coun- 
try, and  every  feeling  of  humanity  and  every  principle 
of  equity  demanded  temporary  indulgence  from  them, 


184  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  IL 

There  was  cruel  injustice  in  turning  a  destructive  visi- 
tation of  Providence  into  an  advantage  to  them  which 
they  could  not  have  had  if  the  law  had  been  left  as  it 
stood  when  they  made  their  contracts  and  took  their 
securities,  and  as  it  still  stands  in  England.' ' 

This  measure,  however,  was  at  that  time  put  forward 
by  the  Whig  party  as  the  supreme  remedy  for  the  ills 
of  Ireland.  It  was  pushed  on  against  all  remonstrances, 
and  with  many  insults  to  the  broken  and  impoverished 
landlords,  who  were  now  fast  sinking  into  the  shades  of 
night.  Political  economy,  it  was  said,  was  vindicated, 
and  with  a  chorus  of  self-congratulation  the  Whig 
leaders  proclaimed  that  Irish  property  was  at  last  placed 
on  its  true  basis,  that  all  feudal  superstitions  had  been 
effectually  exorcised,  and  that  a  new  and  energetic  class 
of  landlords  would  replace  the  old  thriftless,  apathetic 
landlords  of  the  past.  During  the  last  twenty-five 
years  the  main  object  of  the  leaders  of  the  Liberal 
party  has  been  to  undo  the  work  of  1849. 

Let  us  now  look  at  the  Incumbered  Estates  Act  from 
another  side.  The  purchaser  purchased  from  the  Go- 
vernment, and  at  the  invitation  of  the  Government, 
the  complete  and  absolute  ownership  of  the  estate,  sub- 
ject only  to  the  existing  contracts  under  which  it  had 
been  hired  out  to  the  tenants.  He  bought  every  acre 
of  the  land,  every  stone  of  the  buildings.  If  there 
were  improvements  on  the  land,  these  improvements 
were  specifically  mentioned  in  the  printed  advertise- 
ments that  were  issued  by  the  Land  Court,  and  they 
were  sold  to  the  purchaser  by  a  judge  who  was  ap- 
pointed by  the  Government,  and  under  the  direct  sanc- 
tion of  the  Imperial  Parliament.  If  the  property  was 
let  on  very  easy  terms  ;  if  the  leases  were  soon  to  ex- 


i  Fitzgibbon's  Ireland  in  1868,  p.  208. 


CH.  II.  THE  INCUMBERED  ESTATES  ACT  185 

pire  ;  if  there  was  a  possibility  of  making  a  considera- 
ble rise  of  rents,  these  facts  were  constantly  put  forward 
by  the  court  as  inducements  to  the  purchaser,  and  they 
entered  largely  into  the  price  which  he  gave.  He  was 
guaranteed  the  complete  and  absolute  possession  of  the 
land  and  buildings  on  the  termination  of  the  tenancies 
in  the  schedule,  the  full  legal  right  of  determining  the 
existing  yearly  tenancies.  One  of  the  special  advan- 
tages attributed  to  the  Act  was,  that  it  was  perfectly 
clear ;  that  the  title  which  it  conferred  was  absolutely 
indisputable.  It  was  a  parliamentary  title,  the  highest 
known  to  English  law  ;  a  security  of  the  same  kind 
and  of  the  same  force  as  that  by  which  the  fundholder 
or  other  Government  creditor  is  guaranteed  the  interest 
of  his  loan.  Between  1849  and  1870  more  than  fifty- 
two  millions  of  pounds  had  been  invested  on  this  se- 
curity in  the  purchase  of  Irish  land.  About  an  eighth 
part  of  the  soil  of  Ireland  is  said  to  be  held  under  this 
parliamentary  title. 

Let  us  now  pass  for  a  moment  to  the  position  of  the 
existing  landlords  as  it  is  established  by  the  legislation 
of  Mr.  Gladstone.  In  the  first  place,  the  improvements 
which  had  been  purchased  under  the  Incumbered  Es- 
tates Act  have,  by  a  naked  act  of  confiscation,  and 
without  the  smallest  compensation,  been  taken  from 
the  purchaser,  and  are  now  the  property  of  the  tenant. 
A  great  part  of  what  the  State  had  sold  to  him,  and 
what  the  State  had  guaranteed  to  him,  is  no  longer  his  ; 
and  it  has  ceased  to  be  his,  not  by  an  act  of  honest 
purchase,  but  by  an  act  of  simple  power.  In  the  next 
place,  his  clear  and  indisputable  right  to  resume  pos- 
session of  his  land  when  the  tenancies  upon  it  had  ex- 
pired has  been  taken  from  him.  The  tenant  who  was 
in  possession  when  the  Land  Act  was  passed  has  ac- 
quired fixity  of  tenure.     Subject  to  the  periodical  re- 


186  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  n. 

vision  of  rents  by  the  Land  Court,  and  the  fulfilment 
of  certain  easy  statutory  conditions,  he  cannot  be  re- 
moved unless  the  landlord  should  purchase  from  him, 
by  permission  of  the  Land  Court,  and  on  conditions 
which  the  court  prescribes,  that  right  of  resuming  pos- 
session of  his  land  which  before  the  new  Act  was  in- 
disputably his  own.  The  landlord  has  ceased  to  be  the 
owner.  He  has  become  merely  a  rent-charger.  Again 
and  again  in  the  debates  of  1870,  when  the  question  of 
fixity  of  tenure  was  raised,  the  leaders  of  the  Liberal 
party  acknowledged  the  very  obvious  truth  that  such  a 
provision  simply  amounted  to  the  transfer  of  the  owner- 
ship of  the  soil  from  the  landlord  to  the  tenant,  and 
that  such  a  transfer  could  only  be  honestly  effected  by 
paying  for  it  in  money.  '  By  such  a  provision,' said 
Mr.  Gladstone,  '  the  landlord  will  become  a  pensioner 
and  rent-charger  upon  what  is  now  his  own  estate.  The 
Legislature  has,  no  doubt,  the  perfect  right  to  reduce 
him  to  that  condition,  giving  him  proper  compensation 
for  any  loss  he  may  sustain  in  money.'  '  Inasmuch  as 
perpetuity  of  tenure  on  the  part  of  the  occupier  is  vir- 
tually expropriation  of  the  landlord,  and  as  a  mere  re- 
adjustment of  rent  according  to  the  price  of  produce 
can  by  no  means  dispose  of  all  contingencies  the  future 
may  produce  in  his  favour,  compensation  would  have 
to  be  paid  to  the  landlord  for  the  rights  of  which  he 
would  be  deprived.' 1  'I  shall  not  go  into  argument 
on  that  subject,'  said  Sir  Roundell  Palmer  when  speak- 
ing of  this  proposal,  *  because  that  point  was  exhausted 
by  the  Head  of  the  Government  when  he  spoke  of  fixity 
of  tenure,  which,  in  plain  English,  means  taking  away 
the  property  of  one  man  and  giving  it  to  another.     My 


1  Speech  of  Mr.  Gladstone  in  Proposing  the  Irish  Bill,  Febru- 
ary 15,  1870  (Murray). 


CH.  II.  FIXITY  OP  TENURE  187 

right  honourable  friend  said  that,  according  to  the 
principles  of  justice,  if  we  transferred  property  in  that 
way  we  must  pay  for  it.  No  doubt  we  may  take  a 
man's  property,  but  in  that  case  we  must  compensate 
him  for  it/  ^ 

These  principles  appear  to  me  perfectly  true,  and  in- 
deed self-evident ;  but  they  did  not  prevent  the  legis- 
lators of  1881  conferring  fixity  of  tenure  on  the  present 
tenant  without  granting  compensation  to  the  landlord, 
and  from  that  time  the  first  principle  of  much  reason- 
ing in  Parliament  about  Irish  land  has  been  that  it  is  a 
dual  ownership  ;  that  the  landlord  is  nothing  more 
than  a  partner,  or,  as  it  is  now  the  fashion  to  say,  *  a 
sleeping  partner,'  in  a  joint  possession,  whose  interests 
in  every  question  of  dispute  should  be  systematically 
subordinated  to  those  of  the  other  partner.  And  this 
phraseology  represents  with  much  truth  the  position 
which  the  holders  of  land  under  parliamentary  or  other 
title  in  Ireland  now  hold. 

In  the  last  place,  the  Legislature  has  deprived  the 
landlord  of  the  plainest  and  most  inseparable  rights  of 
ownership — the  power  of  making  contracts,  offering 
his  farms  at  the  market  price  ;  selecting  his  tenants  ; 
prescribing  the  period  and  the  terms  for  which  he  will 
let  his  land.  A  court  is  established  with  an  absolute 
power  of  deciding  the  amount  of  rent  which  the  tenant 
is  to  pay,  and  the  landlord  has  no  option  of  refusing, 
or  seeking  another  tenant.  It  is  often  argued  that  the 
reduction  enforced  by  the  Land  Courts  is,  on  an  average, 
somewhat  less  than  that  which  has  taken  place  in  Eng- 
land, and  that  the  Irish  landlord  has,  in  consequence, 
no  reason  to  complain.  There  is,  however,  a  great  dif- 
ference between  a  country  which  is  mainly  pasture  and 


>  Hansa/rd^  cxiz.  1666. 


188  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  n. 

a  country  which  is  in  a  large  degree  wheat-growing ; 
between  a  country  where  farms  are  constantly  thrown 
into  the  hands  of  the  landlord,  as  no  tenant  will  take 
them,  and  a  country  where  the  average  price  of  tenant- 
right  is  more  than  ten  years'  purchase  of  the  existing 
rental.  There  is  also  a  clear  difference  between  a  re- 
duction imposed  by  an  act  of  mere  power,  and  a  reduc- 
tion which  is  the  result  of  the  free  bargaining  of  two 
contracting  parties. 

It  might  have  been  supposed  that  a  legislature,  in 
conferring  this  tremendous  power  upon  a  new  court, 
would  take  great  care  at  least  to  minimise  its  injustice 
by  strictly  defining  the  principles  on  which  it  was  to  act, 
and  insisting  that  the  reasons  for  its  decisions  should  be 
clearly  and  fully  given.  Mr.  Gladstone,  however,  with 
great  skill,  succeeded  in  persuading  Parliament  to  ab- 
stain from  giving  any  definition  or  any  approximation 
to  a  definition  of  a  fair  rent,  leaving  this  matter  com- 
pletely, or  almost  completely,  to  the  arbitrary  and  un- 
regulated action  of  the  court.  The  single  exception 
was  a  provision  that  no  rent  must  be  allowed  for  improve- 
ments made  either  by  the  tenant  or  by  his  predecessor  in 
title.  The  one  real  test  of  the  value  of  a  thing  is  what 
men  are  prepared  to  give  for  it,  and  this  market  test  was 
absolutely  excluded  from  the  valuation.  Another  pos- 
sible test  was  the  long  continuance  of  the  existing  rent. 
The  Bessborough  Commission,  which  laid  the  founda- 
tion of  the  Act  of  1881,  proposed  '  that  a  rent  which 
was  paid  at  any  time  within  the  last  twenty  years,  and 
which  continued  for  not  less  than  ten  years  to  be  regu- 
larly paid,'  should  be  always  assumed  to  be  a  fair  rent, 
unless  the  conditions  had  altered  to  the  detriment  of 
the  tenant.  Another  proposal  was,  that  rents  should 
be  deemed  fair,  and  should  be  exempted  from  the  juris- 
diction of  the  court,  if  they  had  not  been  raised  during 


CH.  II.  THE  REGULATION  OF  RENTS  189 

the  preceding  twenty  years.  In  spite  of  the  great  and 
almost  unparalleled  increase  of  prosperity  in  Ireland 
during  that  period,  it  appears  that  this  proposal  would 
have  applied  to  no  less  than  4,700,000  acres  of  Irish 
soil.^ 

Both  of  these  proposals,  however,  were  rejected. 
Many  rents  were  reduced  which  had  been  paid  without 
a  murmur  for  thirty  or  forty  years,  and  in  spite  of  clear 
evidence  that  the  chief  articles  of  Irish  agricultural  pro- 
duce had  during  that  period  largely  risen,  and  that  the 
opening  of  new  markets  and  the  improvement  of  commu- 
nications had  materially  added  to  the  value  of  the  farms. ^ 
Many  rents  were  reduced  although  it  was  shown  that, 
within  the  last  few  years,  the  right  of  occupying  the 
farms  at  these  rents  had  been  purchased  by  the  tenant 
at  a  large  sum  under  the  Act  of  1870.^  The  decisions 
were  virtually  and  mainly  in  the  hands  of  the  sub-com- 
missioners, who  were  to  a  large  extent  young  barristers 
and  county  attorneys  ;  many  of  them  with  scarcely  any 
previous  knowledge  of  land,  or  of  the  conditions  of  ag- 
riculture in  the  province  in  which  they  were  adjudi- 
cating. They  were  sent  to  their  task — or,  as  one  of 
the  ablest  of  them  expressed  himself,  '  let  loose  upon 
property  ' — without  any  instructions  ;  *  and  they  usually 
gave  their  decisions  without  assigning  any  reasons.  It 
was  clearly  understood  that  their  business  was  to  re- 
duce, and  not  to  regulate,  rents.  Their  popularity  or 
unpopularity  depended  on  the  amount  of  their  reduc- 
tions, and  they  knew  that  the  wildest  expectations  were 
excited.     One  of  the  great  perplexities  of  the  lawyers 


>  See  the  speech  of  the  Right  port  of  the    Committee   of  the 

Hon.  E.  Gibson  on  the  second  House  of  Loo-ds  on  the  Land  Act^ 

reading,  April  5,  1881.  1883,  p.  18;  see,  too,  p.  101. 

"  See  on  this  subject  the  strik-  ^  Ibid.  pp.  17,  43 

ing  evidence  in  the  Third  Re-  «  Ibid.  pp.  104,  132. 


190  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  il 

who  practised  before  them  arose  from  the  extreme  diffi- 
culty of  discovering  the  principle  or  reasoning  on  Avhich 
they  acted.  One  fact,  however,  which  was  clearly  shown 
was,  that  the  artificial  depreciation  of  land  arising  from 
agrarian  agitation  and  outrage  entered  largely  into  their 
estimate.^  It  would  be  impossible  to  conceive  a  greater 
encouragement  to  such  agitation ;  while  the  landlords 
were  fined  by  the  Government  because  the  Govern- 
ment had  failed  to  discharge  adequately  its  elementary 
duty  of  suppressing  anarchy  and  securing  property.  A 
hasty  visit  to  the  farms  was  made,  and  rents  were  set- 
tled according  to  their  present  condition.  In  this  way, 
in  a  country  where  farming  was  already  deplorably 
backward,  slovenly  and  wasteful  farming  received  a 
special  encouragement  in  the  form  of  the  greatest  re- 
duction of  rents. 

It  is  not  surprising  that  such  decisions  carried  with 
them  little  moral  weight.  When  complaints  were 
made,  the  ministers  dilated  on  the  indecency  of  ques- 
tioning '  judicial  decisions  ; '  as  if  such  arbitrary  pro- 
ceedings as  I  have  described  bore  any  real  resemblance 
to  the  judgments  of  a  law  court,  where  a  judge  is 
guided  at  every  step  by  the  clearly  defined  provisions 
of  the  law,  and  where  his  task  is  simply  to  decide 
or  explain  its  relations  to  the  facts  that  are  before 
him.  It  may  be  observed,  too,  that  while  competition 
for  rents  was  extinguished  by  the  law,  and  rentals 
greatly  reduced,  the  competition  for  tenant-right  was 
practically  unrestrained,  and  the  price  of  tenant-right 
rapidly  rose.^    There  could  be  na  better  proof  that  the 

'  Third  Report  of  the   Corn-  tion^  addressed  to  H.  M.'s  Mi- 

mittee  of  the  House  of  Lords  on  nisters,  February  3,  1888,  p.  23, 

the  Land  Act,  1883,  p.  86.  and  the  reply  to  the  Report  of 

"  For   full    statistics   on    this  the    I/and    Acts    Committee    of 

subject,  see  the   Statements  of  1894,  pp.  102-13. 
the  Irish  Landowners'  Conven- 


CH.  II.  OPINION  OP  MILL  191 

reductions  did  not  represent  the  real  market  deprecia- 
tion of  value,  but  were  in  a  large  degree  simply  the 
transfer  of  property  from  one  class  to  another. 

I  have  no  wish  to  put  forward  any  extreme  or  ex- 
aggerated view  of  the  sanctity  of  landed  property.  In 
my  own  opinion,  the  Legislature  has  a  perfect  right,  if 
the  public  welfare  requires  it,  to  take  possession  of  all 
such  property,  and  to  sell  or  hire  it  on  such  terms  as 
it  pleases,  on  the  single  condition  of  giving  full  com- 
pensation to  the  owners.  The  recommendation  of  Mill, 
that  Irish  landlords  should  be  altogether  expropriated, 
receiving  full  compensation,  seems  to  me  very  doubtful 
in  point  of  policy,  but  in  no  degree  objectionable  in 
point  of  principle.  Mill  will  certainly  not  be  suspect- 
ed of  any  undue  leaning  towards  landowners,  but  his 
doctrine  differs  little,  if  at  all,  from  that  which  I 
am  maintaining.  '  The  claim  of  the  landowners,'  he 
writes,  '  is  altogether  subordinate  to  the  general  policy 
of  the  State.  The  principle  of  property  gives  them  no 
right  to  the  land,  but  only  a  right  to  compensation  for 
whatever  portion  of  their  interest  in  the  land  it  may  be 
the  policy  of  the  State  to  deprive  them  of.  To  that 
their  claim  is  indefeasible.  It  is  due  to  landowners, 
and  to  owners  of  any  property  whatever,  recognised  as 
such  by  the  State,  that  they  should  not  be  dispossessed 
of  it  without  receiving  its  full  pecuniary  value,  or  an 
annual  income  equal  to  what  they  derived  from  it. 
.  .  .  When  the  property  is  of  a  kind  to  which  peculiar 
affections  attach  themselves,  the  compensation  ought 
to  exceed  a  bare  pecuniary  equivalent.  .  .  .  The  Le- 
gislature, which,  if  it  pleased,  might  convert  the  whole 
body  of  landlords  into  f  undowners  or  pensioners,  might, 
a  fortiori,  commute  the  average  receipts  of  Irish  land- 
owners into  a  fixed  rent  charge,  and  raise  the  tenants 
into    proprietors,    supposing    always  (without  which 


192  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  u. 

these  acts  would  be  nothing  better  than  robbery)  that 
the  full  market  value  of  the  land  was  tendered  to  the 
landlords  in  case  they  preferred  that  to  accepting  the 
conditions  proposed.'  ^ 

I  should  myself  state  the  claims  of  the  landlord  in 
somewhat  different  terms.  As  much  land  in  these 
islands  is  held  in  trust,  it  seems  to  me  that  the  Govern- 
ment, if  it  deprives  the  landlord,  for  purposes  of  pub- 
lic policy,  of  the  whole  or  a  portion  of  his  property, 
is  bound  in  equity  to  compensate  him  by  such  a  sum  as 
would  produce,  if  invested  in  a  trust  fund,  an  income 
equal  to  that  of  which  he  was  deprived. 

The  course  which  was  pursued  by  the  British  Le- 
gislature towards  Irish  land  was  different,  and  if  the 
terms  '  honesty  '  and  '  dishonesty '  apply  to  the  acts  of 
Parliaments  or  Governments  as  truly  as  to  individuals, 
it  was  distinctly  and  grossly  dishonest.  Under  the 
Constitution  of  the  United  States,  the  greater  part  of 
this  legislation,  being  a  direct  violation  of  contract, 
would  have  been  beyond  the  competence  of  the  States. 
Nor  is  there,  I  believe,  anything  in  the  legislation  of 
the  great  European  countries  that  is  parallel  to  it.  It 
has  been  described  by  one  of  the  best  continental 
writers  upon  government  as  an  attack  on  the  principle 
of  property  more  radical  than  any  measure  of  the 
French  Revolution,  or  even  of  the  Eeign  of  Terror.^    It 


'  Political  Economy^  Book  ii.  on  ne  pent  gu^re  aller  plus  loin ' 

chap.  ii.  §  6.  (Laveleye,  Le  Gouvernement  et 

*'Les  lois   agraires   que  M.  la   Bemocratie,  i.    31-32).     M. 

Gladstone  a  fait  voter  pour  I'lr-  Leon  Say  cites  recent  Irish  agra- 

lande  et  que  Ton  troure  deja  in-  rian  legislation  as  the  most  strik- 

suffisantes  portent  au  principe  ing  modern   instance   of  State 

de  la  propriete  et  du  libre  con-  Socialism    (Socialisme    d'Mat, 

trat  une  atteinte  plus   radicale  p.  7)      See,  too,  the  remarks  of 

que  ne  I'ont  fait  la  revolution  M.  Stocquart,  Revue  de   Droit 

frangaise  et  m§me  la  Terreur.  InternatioTial^  xxvii.  145. 
...  A   moins   de    confiscation 


CH.  n.  ANTICIPATIONS  OP  MINISTERS  193 

is,  indeed,  much  less  like  ordinary  legislation  than  like 
extraordinary  legislation  of  the  nature  of  Acts  of  at- 
tainder or  confiscation.  There  is,  it  is  true,  one  ma- 
terial difference.  Acts  of  attainder  are  usually  passed 
for  the  purpose  of  confiscating  the  property  of  men 
who  have  been  guilty  of  treason  or  rebellion.  As  the 
Parnell  Commission  abundantly  showed,  the  true  crime 
of  the  Irish  landlords  was  their  loyalty.  It  was  for 
the  avowed  purpose  of  ruining  and  driving  from  the 
country  '  the  English  garrison  '  that  the  Fenian  party 
organised  the  agrarian  agitation  that  led  to  the  legisla- 
tion of  1881. 

The  Bill  was  defended  by  some  very  serious  states- 
men on  the  ground  of  necessity.  A  gigantic  agrarian 
conspiracy,  including  the  bulk  of  the  Irish  peasantry, 
the  great  transfer  of  political  power  that  had  taken 
place  in  Ireland  under  English  legislation,  and  an 
acute  and  protracted  agricultural  crisis,  produced  by 
bad  seasons  and  wretched  prices,  had,  they  said,  brought 
Ireland  into  a  state  in  which  some  such  measure  was 
inevitable.  It  must  be  added  that  its  character  and 
effects  were  much  misunderstood.  It  was  believed 
that  the  free  sale  clause,  which  enabled  a  tenant  who 
was  in  difficulties  to  sell  his  tenant-right  to  a  solvent 
farmer,  and,  after  paying  all  debts,  to  emigrate  or  set 
up  business  with  a  substantial  capital,  would  operate 
to  the  great  advantage  of  all  parties.  It  would,  it  was 
thought,  give  the  broken  tenant  a  new  start,  secure 
the  rent  of  the  landlord,  put  an  end  to  all  necessity 
for  evictions,  and  at  the  same  time  attract  farmers  of 
energy  and  industry ;  and  it  was  not  foreseen  how 
completely  it  could  be  paralysed  by  violence  and  intimi- 
dation. 

It  is  also  tolerably  certain  that  a  considerable  num- 
ber, at  least,  of  the  most  important  ministers  never 

VOL.  I.  13 


194  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  n. 

anticipated  that  the  provisions  for  settling  rents  by  the 
authority  of  the  court  would  be  applied  to  the  bulk  of 
Irish  tenancies,  or  made  use  of  to  create  a  new  level  of 
rental.  It  would,  they  believed,  simply  reduce  to  the 
general  average  those  exceptional  and  extortionate 
rents  which,  in  every  county,  undoubtedly  existed. 
If  it  had  not  been  for  the  assurances  to  this  effect 
given  by  the  ministers,  it  is  very  improbable  that  the 
Bill  would  have  passed.  '  My  view,'  said  Mr.  Bright, 
'  is,  that  in  reality  the  rents  in  Ireland  will  for  the 
most  part,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  be  fixed  very  much 
as  they  are  now.'^  'The  Government,'  said  the  At- 
torney-General for  Ireland,  '  did  not  admit  that  there 
would  be  any  loss  to  the  landlord,  except  the  loss  of  a 
power  which  he  ought  not  to  exercise.' ^  'I  deny,' 
said  the  English  Chancellor,  '  that  it  [the  Bill]  will, 
in  any  degree  whatever,  diminish  the  rights  of  the 
landlord,  or  the  value  of  the  interest  he  possesses.'^ 
'  I  think,'  said  Mr.  Forster,  '  the  final  result  of  the 
measure  within  a  few  years  will  be,  that  the  land- 
owners of  Ireland,  small  and  large,  will  be  better  off 
than  they  are  at  this  moment.'*  It  was  believed  that 
rents  would  be  often  raised  as  well  as  often  lowered, 
that  the  tenants  who  were  moderately  rented  would,  in 
consequence,  abstain  from  going  into  the  court,  and 
that  the  Act  would  in  practice  apply  only  to  a  small 
number  of  over-rented  tenancies.  Lord  Carlingford, 
who  spoke  with  especial  authority  on  all  Irish  ques- 
tions, and  who  took  the  chief  part  in  carrying  the 
measure  through  the  House  of  Lords,  was  very  ex- 
plicit. '  My  lords,'  he  said,  '  I  maintain  that  the  pro- 
visions of  this  Bill  will  cause  the  landlords  no  money 


'  Hansard^  cclxi.  103.  '  Ibid,  cclxiv.  532. 

'  Ibid,  cclxi.  1379.  *  Ibid,  cclxiii.  1685. 


CH.  II.  POLICY  OP  MR.   GLADSTONE  195 

loss  whatever.  I  believe  that  it  will  inflict  upon  them 
no  loss  of  income,  except  in  those  cases  in  which  a 
certain  number  of  landlords  may  have  imposed  upon 
their  tenants  excessive  and  inequitable  rents,  which 
they  are  probably  vainly  trying  to  recover/  ' 

I  am  far  from  presuming  to  fathom  the  true  mean- 
ing or  design  of  the  statesman  who  is  chiefly  re- 
sponsible for  this  legislation.  In  introducing  the  Bill 
of  1870,  with  its  dangerous  principle  of  compensation 
for  disturbance,  Mr.  Gladstone  had  specially  and  re- 
peatedly maintained  that  he  was  conferring  a  benefit 
upon  the  owners  as  well  as  the  occupiers  of  the  soil. 
He  deplored  the  fact  that  the  selling  value  of  Irish  land 
was  much  lower  than  that  of  British  land,  and  pre- 
dicted that  the  effects  of  his  legislation  would  make  it 
'  not  merely  worth  twenty  or  twenty-five  years'  pur- 
chase, but  would  raise  it  altogether,  or  very  nearly,  to 
the  value  of  English  or  Scotch  land.'^  In  1881  he 
used  similar  language.  When  introducing  a  measure 
establishing  fixity  of  tenure  he  was  confronted  with 
his  own  very  plain  words  in  1870,  which  I  have  al- 
ready quoted,  about  the  confiscatory  character  of  such 
a  measure  ;  but  it  was  not  difficult  for  so  supreme  a 
master  of  the  art  of  evasion  to  extricate  himself  from' 
his  difficulty.  He  skilfully  met  the  demands  for  com- 
pensation for  property  and  legal  rights  that  were 
clearly  taken  away  by  alleging  that  he  was  not  injuring, 
but,  on  the  contrary,  benefiting  the  landowner.  In 
many  cases,  he  said,  the  probable  effect  of  the  Bill 
would  be  to  raise  rents ;  and  although  lie  would  not 
say  '  whether  the  action  of  the  court  in  fixing  a  ju- 
dicial rent  may  not,  on  the  whole,  lower  the  rents 
rather  than  raise  them  in  the  first  operation,'  he  was 


» Hansard^  ccbdy.  252.  ,  » Ibid.   cc.  1263. 


196  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  n. 

convinced  that  the  increased  value  of  land  derived 
from  the  greater  solidity  of  the  social  state  which  he 
was  bringing  about  would  speedily  '  repay  the  landlord 
for  any  incidental  mischief  of  the  Act  twofold  or 
threefold.'^  As  was  his  usual  custom  on  such  occa- 
sions, he  pitched  his  tone  very  high,  and  appealed  in 
noble  language  to  the  loftiest  motives.  '  Justice,  sir, 
is  to  be  our  guide  ;  and  as  it  has  been  said  that  love  is 
stronger  than  death,  even  so  justice  is  stronger  than 
popular  excitement,  stronger  than  the  passions  of  the 
moment,  stronger  even  than  the  grudges,  the  re- 
sentments, and  the  sad  traditions  of  the  past.  "Walk- 
ing in  that  light,  we  cannot  err.  Guided  by  that 
light — the  Divine  Light — we  are  safe.' 

Probably  no  one  who  was  present  when,  with  uplifted 
eyes,  and  saintly  aspect,  and  exquisitely  modulated  in- 
tonation, the  great  speaker  poured  out  these  sonorous 
sentences,  predicted  that  in  a  few  short  years  he  would 
identify  himself  with  the  men  whom  he  had  truly  de- 
scribed as  preaching  '  the  doctrine  of  public  plunder  ;  * 
demoralising  a  people  by  '  teaching  them  to  make  the 
property  of  their  neighbour  the  objects  of  their  cove- 
tous desire  ; '  attempting  to  substitute  '  an  anarchical 
oppression '  for  the  authority  of  law  ;  making  rapine 
their  first  object ;  seeking  '  to  march  through  rapine 
to  the  dismemberment  of  the  Empire  ; '  destroying  the 
peace  of  life  ;  aiming  at  '  the  servitude  of  good  men, 
the  impunity  and  supremacy  of  bad  men.'  Few  per- 
sons could  have  imagined  that  this  virtuous  statesman 
would  soon  be  endeavouring  to  place  the  government 
of  Ireland  in  the  hands  of  those  who  were  guilty  of 
such  things  ;  that  he  would  be  employing  all  the  re- 

'  Hansard,  cclxiii.  1696-97.  of  the  Land  Law,  February 
See  on  this  subject  an  excellent  1882,  published  by  the  Irish 
1  amphlet,  called  The  Working     Land  Committee. 


CH.  II.  THE  ACT  OF  1881  197 

sources  of  his  matchless  dialectic  to  attenuate  their 
misdeeds ;  that  he  would  denounce  as  coercion  mea- 
sures for  the  enforcement  of  the  criminal  law  against 
the  most  merciless  of  oppressions,  which  were  largely 
copied  from  his  own  legi^ation  ;  that  he  would  spend 
the  evening  of  his  long  and  brilliant  public  life  in  in- 
flaming class  animosities  and  reviving  the  almost  ex- 
tinct embers  of  provincial  jealousies.  It  is  perhaps 
somewhat  less  surprising  that  the  Irish  landlords  con- 
tinued to  be  attacked  just  as  if  the  Acts  of  1870  and 
1881  had  never  been  carried,  and  as  if  capricious  evic- 
tions and  rack-rents  had  not  been  rendered  impossible. 
The  Act  was,  indeed,  as  far  as  possible  from  appeas- 
ing Ireland.  Probably  the  worst  period  of  the  land 
agitation  followed  its  enactment,  and  hopes  of  plunder 
were  excited  to  the  utmost,  while  falling  prices  and 
ever-deepening  agricultural  distress  vastly  aggravated 
the  crisis.  The  stability  which  was  supposed  to  have 
been  given  by  the  Act  of  1881  had  been  represented 
as  one  of  its  great  merits  ;  but  every  year  the  cry  for 
revising  it  acquired  fresh  force,  and  after  the  utter 
political  demoralisation  that  followed  the  apostasy  of 
1886,  when  the  main  section  of  the  Liberal  party  pur- 
chased the  votes  by  adopting  the  policy  of  the  National 
League,  this  cry  became  probably  irresistible.  Some 
of  those  who  had  consented  to  the  Act  of  1881  now 
looked  with  consternation  at  their  work.  '  I  would 
rather  have  cut  off  my  hand,'  said  Lord  Selborne,  '  than 
been  a  party  to  the  measure  of  1881,  giving  the  House 
the  reasons  and  assurances  which  I  then  gave,  if  I  had 
known  that  within  five  years  after  its  passing  it  would 
have  been  thrown  over  by  its  authors,  and  that  the 
course  they  had  now  taken  would  have  been  entered  on.*^ 


*  Hcmsardy  cccxix.  18, 


198  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  il 

The  Land  Act  of  1887,  however,  which  reopened  the 
settlement,  was  carried  by  a  Unionist  Government,  and 
it  again  lowered  rents  which  only  four  or  five  years  be- 
fore had  been  judicially  fixed.  It  was  said  that  the 
State,  having  undertaken  to  regulate  rents,  could  not 
remain  passive  when  prices  had  so  greatly  fallen,  and 
that  the  political  condition  of  the  country  imperatively 
demanded  its  intervention.  It  is  true  that,  under  the 
Act  of  1881,  the  State,  while  reducing  the  rents  of  the 
Irish  landlords,  had  guaranteed  those  reduced  rents  for 
fifteen  years.  ^  It  was  a  distinct,  formal  promise,  rest- 
ing on  the  national  faith  and  on  the  authority  of  the 
Imperial  Parliament.  The  promise  was  broken,  but  it 
was  asked  whether  this  was  in  truth  a  very  different 
thing  from  what  had  already  been  done  in  1881,  when 
parliamentary  and  hereditary  titles  had  been  torn  into 
shreds.  The  existing  leaseholders  were  at  the  same 
time  brought,  for  the  first  time,  within  the  provisions 
of  the  clause  for  reducing  rents.  Mr.  Gladstone 
had  refused  to  do  this  in  1881  ;  but  it  was  said  that  it 
was  intolerable  that  the  flower  of  the  Irish  tenantry 
should  alone  be  excluded  from  benefits  which  all  other 
tenants  so  abundantly  enjoyed,  and  that  there  was  lit- 
tle chance  of  conciliating  the  Irish  farmers  if  their 
leading  and  most  intelligent  members  were  left  embit- 
tered by  an  exceptional  disability. 

The  force  of  this  argument  is  incontestable,  but  the 
gravity  of  the  step  that  was  taken  is  not  less  so.  One 
great  object,  as  we  have  seen,  of  the  Act  of  1870  had 
been  to  induce  landlords  to  grant  leases  by  giving  them 
an  assurance  that  they  would  in  this  way  place  them- 
selves   beyond  the   many    entanglements    and    penal 


1  '  An  alteration  of  judicial  rent  shall  not  take  place  at  less  in 
tervals  than  fifteen  years  '  (Sect.  viii.). 


CH.  n.  THE  LAND  ACT  OP  1887  199 

clauses  of  the  new  legislation.  No  one  could  pretend 
either  that  the  Irish  leaseholders  were  a  helpless  class, 
incapable  of  making  their  own  bargains,  or  that  their 
position  rested  on  any  other  foundation  than  a  distinct 
written  contract.  They  were  the  most  substantial  and 
intelligent  farmers  of  Ireland.  The  lease  which  regu- 
lated their  tenancies  was  a  fully  recognised  legal  docu- 
ment, bearing  the  Government  stamp,  carrying  with  it 
all  the  authority  and  protection  that  English  law  could 
give.  Its  first  clause  was,  usually,  that  at  the  expiry 
of  the  assigned  term  the  tenant  should  hand  back  the 
land  to  its  owner.  This  provision  had  been  already 
torn  to  pieces' by  the  Act  of  1881,  which  provided  that 
in  cases  of  all  leases  of  less  than  sixty  years  the  tenant, 
at  the  expiry  of  the  lease,  if  resident  on  his  farm,  need 
not  hand  it  back  according  to  his  contract,  but  should 
remain  a  '  present  tenant,'  with  all  the  rights  of  perma- 
nent occupancy  attaching  to  that  position.^  The  next 
clause  stipulated  in  very  explicit  terms  the  rent  in  con- 
sideration of  which  the  landlord  had,  in  the  exercise  of 
his  full  legal  rights,  hired  out  his  farm.  This  also  was 
broken,  and  the  leaseholder  had  now  the  right  of  bring- 
ing his  landlord  into  a  court  where,  as  the  result  of 
proceedings  which  always  brought  with  them  heavy 
legal  costs  to  the  landlord,  the  rent  was  authoritatively 
and  judicially  reduced. 

It  will  be  observed  that  the  State  did  not  in  this 
matter  annul  or  dissolve  a  legal  contract,  leaving  the 
two  parties  free  to  make  fresh  arrangements.     It  left 


•  There  was  an  exception  in  the   lease   of  A.  B.,  in  whose 

case   of  ionA-fide   reversionary  hands  it  now  was,  tliis  arrange- 

leases  made  before  the  law  had  ment    was    suffered    to    stand, 

passed ;  e.g.^  if  the  landlord  had  See  Kisbey  On  the  Land  Aet  of 

already   granted  to   C  D.   the  1881,  pp.  64-65. 
lease  of  a  farm  on  the  expiry  of 


200  DEMOCRACfY  AND  LIBERTY  ca  ii. 

one  party  wholly  bound  by  the  terms  of  the  contract ; 
it  contented  itself  with  releasing  the  other ;  and,  it 
need  scarcely  be  added,  it  did  this  without  granting 
the  smallest  compensation  to  the  defrauded  partner. 
There  were  other  provisions,  into  which  I  need  not 
enter,  diminishing  the  few  remaining  powers  of  the 
landlord  of  recovering  rent,  and  somewhat  improving 
the  position  of  the  ordinary  tenant.  The  Act  was  de- 
scribed by  a  leading  Unionist  statesman  as  '  the  most 
generous  boon '  ever  conferred  by  the  Imperial  Parlia- 
ment on  the  Irish  tenant.  This  '  generosity '  which 
impels  legislators,  without  the  smallest  sacrifice  to 
themselves,  to  seek  to  conciliate  one  class  by  handing 
over  to  them  the  property  of  another  is  likely  to  be  a 
growing  virtue  in  English  politics. 

We  can  hardly,  indeed,  have  a  better  example  of  the 
manner  in  which  a  subversive  principle,  once  admitted 
into  politics,  will  grow  and  strengthen  till  it  acquires 
an  irresistible  power.  When  the  principle  of  com- 
pensation for  disturbance  was  introduced  into  the  mea- 
sure of  1870,  it  was  carefully  explained  that  this  was 
not  intended  to  invalidate  in  any  degree  the  indis- 
putable title  of  the  landlord  to  the  sole  ownership  of 
his  property  ;  that  it  was  intended  to  be  strictly  li- 
mited in  its  application  ;  that  it  was  essentially  a  mea- 
sure for  the  maintenance  of  public  order  ;  that  its  only 
object  was  to  make  a  few  bad  landlords  do  what  all 
good  landlords  were  already  doing  ;  that  it  was  certain 
to  be  as  beneficial  to  the  landlord  as  to  the  tenant 
class.  Probably,  few  persons  clearly  foresaw  that  it 
was  the  first  step  of  a  vast  transfer  of  property,  and 
that  in  a  few  years  it  would  become  customary  for 
ministers  of  the  Crown  to  base  all  their  legislation  on 
the  doctrine  that  Irish  land  was  not  an  undivided 
ownership,  but  a  simple  partnership. 


CH.  II.  CLAIMS  FOR  COMPENSATION  201 

As  might  be  expected,  the  Irish  landlords  claimed 
compensation  for  property  that  was  manifestly  confis- 
cated, for  vested  and  reversionary  interests  and  clearly 
recognised  legal  rights  which,  for  reasons  of  public 
policy,  had  been  taken  away.  In  an  eminently  mode- 
rate and  closely  reasoned  statement  they  showed  how 
invariably  and  rigorously  the  Imperial  Parliament,  fol- 
lowing the  general  custom  of  civilised  communities, 
had  itself  recognised  this  right,  and  imposed  the  obli- 
gation of  compensation  on  all  public  bodies,  companies, 
and  individuals  to  whom  it  had  granted  a  compulsory 
power  of  acquiring  or  interfering  with  property  or 
vested  interests.  They  suggested  especially  two  forms 
of  compensation.  One  of  •  them  was  the  reduction  of 
the  tithe  rent-charge  which  was  paid  to  the  Govern- 
ment by  the  landlord.  They  strengthened  their  case 
by  reminding  the  ministers  that  before  1872  the  tithe 
rent-charge  could  be  revised  every  seven  years,  accord- 
ing to  the  price  of  corn,  which  was  then  much  higher 
than  at  the  time  they  wrote  ;  that  before  1838  the 
tithe  was  paid  by  the  occupier,  and  not  by  the  owner, 
and  that  the  duty  of  paying  it,  or,  as  it  was  then  said, 
collecting  it,  was  transferred  in  that  year  to  the  land- 
lord, on  the  understanding  that  he  could  recoup  him- 
self in  the  rent.  This  rent  was  now  arbitrarily  reduced, 
and  the  landlord  had  lost  all  power  over  it. 

The  other  suggestion  was,  that  Government  might 
lend  money  at  low  interest  to  pay  off  the  heavy  charges 
which  rested  on  Irish  land,  aYid  which  had  been  incurred 
on  the  faith  of  legal  rights  that  were  now  destroyed. 
Great  sums  had  been  already  advanced  in  Ireland  for 
public  purposes  on  such  terms,  and  it  was  noticed  that 
this  policy  had  very  recently  been  adopted  in  Russia 
to  relieve  the  embarrassments  of  the  Russian  landlords. 
As  the  normal  rate  of  interest  on  charges  on  Irish 


202  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  n. 

property  was  little,  if  at  all,  below  5  per  cent.,  and  as, 
with  Imperial  credit.  State  loans  miglit  be  granted  at 
an  annuity  not  exceeding  31  per  cent.,  repaying  capital 
and  interest  in  about  sixty-five  and  a  half  years,  this 
measure  would  have  very  materially  lightened  the  bur- 
den, and  probably  saved  many  landlords  and  many 
creditors  from  ruin.^ 

Such  proposals,  however,  never  had  the  least  chance 
of  being  accepted.  It  was  certain  that  the  Liberal 
party,  which  now  depended  on  the  National  League, 
would  be  steadily  opposed  to  them,  and  it  was  quite 
powerful  enough  to  prevent  them.  There  was,  indeed, 
a  melancholy  unreality  about  all  such  discussions.  The 
two  parties  moved  on  different  planes.  Arguments  of 
justice,  precedents,  clear  statements  by  Liberal  leaders, 
were  put  forward  by  the  representatives  of  the  Irish 
landlords,  but  every  politician  knew  in  his  heart  that 
the  real  question  was  one  of  votes  and  power,  and  po- 
litical power  had  passed  away  from  the  Irish  landlords. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  follow  this  story  any  further, 
and  to  describe  the  almost  annual  attempts  that  have 
been  made  to  grant,  through  political  pressure,  to  the 
occupying  class  in  Ireland  a  larger  share  of  the  proper- 
ty of  the  nominal  owners.  It  cannot  be  denied  that 
this  legislation  has  redressed  some  hard  cases  and  bene- 
fited a  large  number  of  tenants  ;  and  as  few  men  look 
beyond  immediate  consequences,  or  rightly  estimate 
those  which  are  indirect  and  remote,  this  fact  is  accept- 
ed by  many  as  its  justification.  For  my  own  part,  I 
believe  that  it  will  one  day  be  found  that  the  evils  result- 
ing from  this  policy  have  greatly  outweighed  its  bene- 
fits, and  that  they  will  fall  far  more  heavily  on  another 


'  Statement  submitted  on  the   part  of  the  Irish  Landowners' 
Convention  to  Her  Majesty's  ministers,  February  3,  1888. 


CH.  II.  EFFECTS  OF  THE  LAND  LAWS  203 

class  than  on  the  small  class  which  was  directly  injured. 
In  a  poor  country,  where  increased  capital,  improved 
credit,  and  secure  industry  are  the  greatest  needs,  it 
has  shaken  to  the  very  basis  the  idea  of  the  sanctity 
and  obligation  of  contract ;  made  it  almost  impossible 
to  borrow  any  considerable  sum  on  Irish  land  ;  effectu- 
ally stopped  the  influx  of  English  gold ;  paralysed  or 
prevented  nearly  all  industrial  undertakings,  stretching 
into  a  distant  future.  It  has  reacted  powerfully  upon 
trade,  and  thus  contributed  to  impoverish  the  Irish 
towns,  while  it  has  withdrawn  the  whole  rental  of  Ire- 
land from  the  improvement  of  the  soil,  as  the  landlord 
can  have  no  further  inducement  or  obligation  to  spend 
money  on  his  estate.  In  combination  also  with  the 
Home  Rule  movement  it  has  driven  much  capital  out 
of  the  land.  Probably  only  a  small  portion  of  the 
money  which  is  now  received  for  the  sale  of  land  under 
the  Government  Acts  is  invested  in  Ireland.  Prudent 
men  have  learned  the  wisdom  of  placing  their  savings, 
and  at  least  a  portion  of  their  realised  property,  outside 
a  country  where  the  dominant  political  influences  are 
on  the  side  of  dishonesty  ;  where  the  repudiation  of 
debts  and  the  intimidation  of  creditors  have  become 
leading  features  of  popular  politics  ;  where  the  protec- 
tion of  property  and  the  administration  of  justice  may 
one  day  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  authors  of  the  '  No 
Rent  Manifesto '  and  of  the  Plan  of  Campaign. 

Under  such  conditions,  the  difficulty  of  establishing 
any  system  of  safe  and  honest  self-government  has  been 
immensely  aggravated.  Ireland  must  indeed  be  greatly 
changed  if  the  withdrawal  from  her  country  districts 
of  the  presence  and  influence  of  her  most  educated 
class  proves  a  real  benefit  ;  if  local  institutions  are 
more  wisely  and  honestly  administered  by  passing  from 
the  hands  of  country  gentlemen  into  the  hands  of  the 


204  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  ii. 

professional  politician  ;  if  the  labourer  and  smaller  te- 
'nant  find  it  to  their  advantage  to  be  more  directly  under 
the  power  of  farmers,  gombeen  men,  and  local  attor- 
neys. Fair  rents  and  free  sale,  as  has  been  often  ob- 
served, are  mutually  destructive,  and  after  a  few  sales 
the  burden  of  interest  paid  to  the  money-lender  will  be 
far  heavier  than  the  rent  which  was  taken  from  the 
landlord ;  while  the  conflict  between  the  farmer  and 
the  labourer  is  likely  to  reproduce  in  an  aggravated 
form  the  conflict  between  the  landlord  and  the  farmer. 

Three  things,  indeed,  may  be  confidently  asserted 
about  Irish  rents.  The  first  is,  that  it  has  never  been 
the  custom  of  the  great  body  of  Irish  landlords  to  exact 
the  full  competitive  rents  from  their  tenants,  although 
a  considerable  minority  have  done  so.  The  second  is, 
that  it  has  been  the  invariable  practice  of  Irish  tenants, 
in  selling  to  one  another  their  tenant-right  and  in  sub- 
letting plots  of  ground  to  their  labourers,  to  demand 
the  full  competitive  price.  The  third  is,  that  in  order 
to  make  the  system  of  what  is  practically  rack-rent 
general,  no  better  way  could  be  devised  than  the  recent 
land  legislation.  If  you  give  the  tenant  fixity  of  tenure 
at  a  judicially  fixed  rent  which  is  considerably  below 
the  market  price,  and  at  the  same  time  give  him  a 
practically  unlimited  power  of  selling  his  tenancy  with 
no  restriction  of  price,  the  result  must  be  two  rents — 
one  paid  to  the  landlord,  the  other  paid  to  the  money- 
lender in  the  shape  of  interest  on  the  money  borrowed 
to  purchase  the  tenant-right.  And  these  two  combined 
will  represent  the  extreme  value  of  the  land. 

The  moral  effects  on  the  Irish  people  of  the  land 
legislation  and  of  the  agitation  that  produced  it  have 
been  still  more  pernicious.  If  we  ask  what  are  the 
chief  services  that  a  Government  can  render  to  nation- 
al morals,  we  shall  probably  obtain  different  answers. 


CH.  II.  EFFECTS  OF  THE  LAND  LAWS  205 

Some  men  will  place  the  greatest  stress  on  the  establish- 
ment by  the  State  of  the  religion  which  they  believe 
to  be  true  ;  on  the  infusion  into  national  education  of 
a  large  measure  of  religious  teaching  ;  on  laws  restrain- 
ing private  vices  or  controlling  trades,  institutions,  or 
amusements  that  may  produce  them.  On  all  these 
points  there  may  be  much  controversy  about  the  true 
province  of  the  State,  and  there  is  probably  much  ex- 
aggeration about  the  good  that  it  can  do.  To  me,  at 
least,  the  first  and  greatest  service  a  Government  can 
render  to  morals  seems  to  be  the  maintenance  of  a  so- 
cial organisation  in  which  the  path  of  duty  and  the 
path  of  interest  as  much  as  possible  coincide  ;  in  which 
honesty,  industry,  providence,  and  public  spirit  natu- 
rally reap  their  rewards,  and  the  opposite  vices  their 
punishment.  No  worse  lesson  can  be  taught  a  nation 
than  that  violence,  intimidation,  conspiracy,  and  sys- 
tematic refusal  to  pay  debts  are  the  natural  means  of 
rising  to  political  power  and  obtaining  legislative  con- 
cessions. No  worse  habit  can  be  implanted  in  a  nation 
than  that  of  looking  for  prosperity  to  politics  rather 
than  to  industry,  and  forming  contracts  and  incurring 
debts  with  the  belief  that  a  turn  of  the  political  wheel 
may  make  it  possible  to  cancel  them. 

It  is,  indeed,  a  curious  and  melancholy  study  to  trace 
the  effects  of  recent  legislation  on  different  classes  in 
Ireland.  The  landlords  who  have  suffered  least  have 
probably  been  those  Avho  simplified  their  properties  by 
the  wholesale  evictions,  the  harsh  clearances,  that  too 
often  followed  the  Famine.  Next  in  the  scale  came 
those  who  exacted  extreme  rack-rents  from  their  te- 
nants. Those  rents  had  been  received  for  many  years, 
and  though  they  were  ultimately  more  reduced  than 
rents  which  had  always  been  low,  they  still,  in  innu- 
merable cases,  remained   somewhat  higher  than    the 


206  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  ii. 

others.  The  large  class  who  regarded  land  simply  as  a 
source  of  revenue^  and,  without  doing  anything  harsh, 
or  extortionate,  or  unjust,  took  no  part  or  interest  in 
its  management,  have  suffered  very  moderately.  It  is 
the  improving  landlord,  who  took  a  real  interest  in  his 
estate,  who  sank  large  sums  in  draining  and  other  pur- 
poses of  improvement,  who  exercised  a  constant  and 
beneficent  influence  over  his  tenants,  who  has  suffered 
most  by  the  legislation  that  reduced  him  to  a  mere 
powerless  rent-charger,  and  in  most  cases  rendered  the 
sums  he  had  expended  an  absolute  loss.  As  I  have  al- 
ready noticed,  the  careless  and  slovenly  farmer  had  his 
rent  more  reduced  than  the  farmer  who,  by  good  culti- 
vation, had  maintained  his  farm  at  its  full  value.  An 
Arrears  Act  was  carried  conferring  great  benefits  on 
the  farmer  who  had  allowed  his  rent  to  fall  many  years 
into  arrear,  but  doing  nothing  for  the  farmer  who,  by 
steady,  conscientious  industry,  had  in  bad  times  ho- 
nestly paid  his  way.  Even  the  land  purchase  Acts, 
though  they  are  by  far  the  most  valuable  parts  of  re- 
cent Irish  land  legislation,  had  a  similar  tendency. 
As  the  tenant  is  no  longer  asked  to  advance  any  por- 
tion of  the  purchase  money,  no  premium  is  given  to  in- 
dustry and  thrift  ;  the  value  of  the  purchased  land  has 
been  artificially  depreciated  by  agitation  and  attacks 
upon  property  ;  and  as  the  landlord  whose  income  has 
already  been  twice  reduced  by  a  land  court  knows  that 
in  most  cases,  in  addition  to  heavy  legal  expenses,  a  sale 
will  reduce  each  remaining  100^.  a  year  to  601.  or  70Z., 
he  is,  not  unnaturally,  unwilling  to  sell  when  his  te- 
nants are  honest  and  solvent,  though  he  may  be  ready  to 
do  so  on  easy  terms  when  they  are  dishonest,  trouble- 
some, and  unpunctual. 

To  crown  the  edifice,  a  measure  was  introduced  by 
the  Government,  in  1894,  for  the  purpose  of  reinstate 


CH.  n.  EVICTED  TENAJ^TS  207 

ing,  at  the  cost  of  250,000/^  of  public  money  drawn 
from  the  funds  of  the  Irish  Church,  those  tenants 
who,  in  spite  of  judicial  reductions  and  all  the  delays 
and  indulgences  of  the  law,  had  been  either  unable  or 
unwilling  to  pay  their  rents,  and  had  been  in  conse- 
quence evicted.  By  this  measure  it  was  proposed  to 
invest  three  men  nominated  by  the  Government,  and  un- 
controlled by  any  right  of  appeal,  with  an  arbitrary  and 
almost  absolute  power  of  reinstating  any  Irish  tenant, 
or  the  representative  of  any  Irish  tenant,  who  had  been 
evicted  for  any  cause  since  1879.  The  only  restriction 
was  that  the  consent  of  the  present  tenant  must  be  ob- 
tained ;  but  in  a  great  part  of  Ireland  he  could  not 
withhold  it  without  imminent  danger  to  his  life.  The 
tenant  might  have  been  evicted  for  dishonesty,  for  vio- 
lence, for  criminal  conspiracy,  for  hopeless  and  long- 
continued  bankruptcy.  He  might  be  living  in  America. 
The  owner  of  the  soil  might  have  delayed  the  eviction 
for  years  after  the  law  had  empowered  him  to  carry  it 
out,  and  he  might  have  at  last  taken  the  land  into  his 
own  possession,  and  have  been,  during  many  years, 
farming  it  himself.  He  had  no  right  of  refusing  his 
consent,  and  his  only  alternative  was  to  take  back  the 
former  tenant,  or  to  sell  to  him  the  farm  at  whatever 
price  a  revolutionary  and  despotic  tribunal  might  de- 
termine. 

The  explanation  of  the  measure  was  very  plain.  It 
was  specially  intended  for  the  benefit  of  the  '  Plan-of- 
campaign  '  tenants,  who  had  placed  money  which  was 
actually  in  their  possession,  and  which  was  due  to 
their  landlords  for  benefits  already  received,  in  the 
hands  of  '  trustees,'  for  the  express  purpose  of  de- 
frauding their  creditors.  This  '  Plan  of  Campaign ' 
had  been  authoritatively  pronounced  by  the  highest 
law  court  in  Ireland  to  be  '  clearly  and  absolutely  ille- 


208  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  ii. 

gal/  It  had  been  condemned  by  the  head  of  the  Ca- 
tholic Church  as  distinctly  immoral.  It  had  been 
avowedly  '  a  political  engine/  devised  by  political  con- 
spirators for  the  purpose  of  defeating  the  Government, 
proving  that  the  Land  League  was  stronger  than  the 
law,  and  persuading  the  peasantry  that  its  directors 
were  the  real  rulers  of  Ireland.  The  instigators  of  this 
conspiracy  were  now  in  Parliament.  The  Government 
depended  for  their  majority  upon  their  votes,  and  their 
terms  were  that  the  Plan-of-Campaign  conspiracy 
should  be  triumphantly  vindicated.  The  proposed 
measure  was  not  a  mere  measure  of  amnesty  closing  an 
old  controversy,  granting  indulgence  to  poor  men  who 
had  been  duped  by  men  far  more  dishonest  than  them- 
selves. It  was  a  measure  of  triumph,  giving  special 
and  exceptional  favour  to  defaulting  tenants.  No  sol- 
vent tenant  could  become  the  owner  of  his  farm  with- 
out the  consent  of  his  landlord.  This  privilege  was 
reserved  for  the  evicted  tenant. 

In  the  light  of  this  clause  and  of  the  persistence 
with  which  it  was  maintained,  no  reasonable  man  could 
doubt  the  character,  the  origin,  and  the  motive  of  the 
measure.  The  Government  bought  the  Irish  vote  by  a 
Bill  to  carry  out  their  design,  and  it  resolved  to  devote 
a  large  amount  of  public  money  to  the  purpose.  It  is 
true  that  this  scandalous  instance  of  political  profligacy 
was  defeated  by  the  House  of  Lords,  and  that  in  the 
Land  Bill  of  the  succeeding  year  the  compulsory  clause 
was  dropped  ;  but  the  fact  that  a  British  minister 
could  be  found  to  introduce,  and  a  party  majority  to 
vote  it,  is  not  likely  to  be  forgotten  in  Ireland.  Never, 
indeed,  did  a  minister  of  the  Crown  propose  a  measure 
more  distinctly  calculated  to  encourage  dishonesty,  and 
to  persuade  a  deluded  people  that  a  sufficient  amount 
of  voting  power  was  all  that  was  needed  to  make  it  sue- 


CH.  II.        A  DANGEROUS  PRECEDENT         209 

cessful.  It  has  been  truly  said,  that  the  worst  feature 
of  the  old  penal  code  against  Irish  Catholics  was  that 
some  of  its  provisions  placed  law  in  direct  opposition 
to  religion  and  to  morals,  and  thus  tended  powerfully 
to  demoralise  as  well  as  to  impoverish.  A  system  of 
government  has,  in  our  day,  grown  up  in  Ireland  not 
less  really  and  scarcely  less  widely  demoralising.  Those 
who  have  examined  its  effects  will  only  wonder  that  so 
much  honesty  and  virtue  have  survived  it. 

It  has  been  well  said  by  Senior,  that  '  the  most  re- 
volting, and  perhaps  the  most  mischievous,  form  of 
robbery  is  that  in  which  the  Government  itself  becomes 
an  accomplice ;  when  the  property  of  whole  classes  of 
individuals  is  swept  away  by  legislative  enactments,  and 
men  owe  their  ruin  to  that  very  institution  which  was 
created  to  ensure  their  safety.'^  Probably  the  most 
serious  aspect,  however,  of  this  Irish  legislation  is  to  be 
found  in  the  precedents  it  created.  I  have  not  con- 
cealed the  difficulties  under  which  it  grew  up,  and 
which  explain  and  palliate  the  conduct  of  the  legis- 
lators, and  if  a  comparison  were  made  between  the 
losses  English  landlords  have  undergone  through  eco- 
nomical causes,  and  the  losses  of  Irish  landlords  under 
the  action  of  the  law,  it  is  very  doubtful  whether  the 
position  of  the  former  would  appear  the  more  desirable. 
But,  when  all  this  is  said,  it  is  impossible  reasonably  to 
deny  that  this  legislation  involves  as  distinct  instances 
of  national  faith  violated,  of  property  guaranteed  by 
law  taken  without  compensation,  as  can  be  found  in  the 
proceedings  of  any  of  those  defaulting  governments  of 
South  America  on  which  English  public  opinion  has 
so  often  and  so  largely  expended  its  indignation.     If 


•  Journals,  ^c,  relating  to  Ireland^  i.  2. 
VOL.  I.  11 


210  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH,  n. 

Parliament  passed  a  law  repudiating  its  railway  guaran- 
tees, or  the  whole  or  part  of  the  interest  of  the  Na- 
tional Debt,  or  limiting  by  an  act  of  power  the  profits 
of  tradesmen,  or  compelling  a  London  lodging-house 
keeper  to  give  fixity  of  tenure  at  a  reduced  rent  to  a 
London  workman,  or  placing  the  debentures  and  prefe- 
rence shares  of  a  railway  on  the  same  basis  as  the  ordi- 
nary shares,  or  obliging  a  railway  company  to  expend 
the  whole  or  nearly  the  whole  of  its  profits  in  cheapen- 
ing fares,  instead  of  increasing  dividends,  it  would  not 
be  invading  the  rights  of  property  more  clearly. 

It  is  idle  to  suppose  that  such  a  precedent  can  be 
confined  to  Ireland,  or  Irish  land,  or  Irish  landlords. 
With  a  suffrage  that  gives  the  predominant  power  to 
the  very  ignorant  and  the  very  poor  ;  in  an  age  when 
every  kind  of  predatory  theory  relating  to  property  is 
in  the  air,  and  when  the  province  of  State  interference 
is  continually  extending,  and  under  a  Constitution 
which  gives  no  special  protection  to  contracts,  such  a 
precedent  is  certain  to  groAV.  A  departure  from  sound 
principle  in  legislation  is  nearly  always  advocated,  in 
the  first  instance,  on  the  ground  that  it  is  entirely  ex- 
ceptional, strictly  limited  in  its  application,  certain  to 
do  no  practical  harm,  and  intended  to  secure  some 
practical  benefit.  Once  admitted,  it  soon  becomes  a 
starting-point  or  logical  premise,  and  is  pushed  into 
new  fields  and  to  new  consequences. 

There  are  very  few  forms  of  confiscation  which  an 
ingenious  man  may  not  justify  by  the  Irish  precedent. 
Irish  landlordism  is  far  from  being  an  exceptional 
thing,  and  oppressive  rents  and  harsh  evictions  will  be 
found  in  greater  abundance  in  the  poorer  quarters  of 
London,  Paris,  or  New  York,  than  in  Mayo  and  Conne- 
mara.  The  well-known  American  writer,  Mr.  George, 
compares  Irish  landlords  to  useless,  ravenous,  destruc- 


CH.  II.     HENRY  GEORGE  ON  LANDLORDISM     211 

tive  beasts,  but  he  acknowledges,  a  few  pages  later,  that 
they  are  in  no  degree  harder  than  any  similar  class  ; 
that  they  are  less  grasping  towards  their  tenants  than 
the  farmers  who  rent  of  them  are  towards  the  labourers 
to  whom  they  sublet ;  that  it  is  pure  '  humbug '  to  pre- 
tend that  '  Irish  landlordism  is  something  different 
from  American  landlordism  ; '  and  that  the  position  of 
an  American  tenant  is,  in  fact,  not  better,  but  worse, 
than  that  of  an  Irish  one.  '  In  the  United  States  the 
landlord  has,  in  all  its  fulness,  the  unrestricted  power 
of  doing  as  he  pleases  with  his  own.  Rack-renting  is 
with  us  the  common,  almost  the  exclusive,  form  of 
renting.  There  is  no  long  process  to  be  gone  through 
to  secure  an  eviction,  no  serving  notice  upon  the  re- 
lieving officer  of  the  district.  The  tenant  whom  the 
landlord  wants  to  get  rid  of  can  be  expelled  with  the 
minimum  of  cost  and  expense.'  Mr,  George  quotes 
with  approval  the  statement  of  an  American  judge  that 
there  are  few  months  in  which  at  least  100  warrants  of 
ejection  are  not  issued  against  poor  tenants  in  the  more 
squalid  quarters  of  New  York.^ 

In  countless  instances,  indeed,  the  rents  of  poor 
men's  houses,  the  value  of  poor  men's  investments,  and 
the  burdensomeness  of  poor  men's  contracts,  are 
affected  by  circumstances  which  they  could  neither 
foresee  nor  control.  How  often  does  some  great  quarter 
of  houses  for  the  poor  grow  up  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  a  flourishing  industry,  but  a  change  of  fashion,  a 
new  invention,  a  migration  of  population  or  capital, 
destroys  the  industry  :  work  ebbs  away,  prices  and 
wages  change,  contracts  which  were  once  easy  and 
natural  become  overwhelmingly  oppressive,  and  with 
diminishing  or  disappearing  profits,    the   interest  of 


•  George's  Social  Problems,  chap. 


212  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  cu.  ii. 

money  borrowed  to  carry  on  the  business  ruins  the 
worker.  Ought  the  State  under  such  circumstances  to 
constitute  itself  a  kind  of  Providence,  to  break  con- 
tracts and  regulate  anew  the  conditions  of  industry  ? 
And  if  it  begins  to  do  this,  without  giving  compensa- 
tion for  rights  that  it  takes  away,  and  under  mere  po- 
litical pressure,  at  what  point  is  it  likely  to  stop  ? 

Eeflections  of  this  kind  must  have  occurred  to  every 
thinking  man  who  observes  the  course  of  modern 
politics,  and  the  alacrity  and  complaisance  with  which 
schemes  of  the  most  wholesale  plunder  are  in  many 
quarters  received.  One  favourite  form  has  consisted 
of  attacks  on  the  private  ownership  of  land,  and  the 
popularity  attained  by  the  writings  of  Mr.  George, 
who  preaches  on  this  subject  the  most  extreme  doctrine, 
is  a  striking  sign  of  the  times.  Nothing,  indeed,  in  his- 
tory or  in  economics  is  more  plain  than  that  the  strong 
stimulus  of  an  exclusive  personal  interest  can  alone  at- 
tract to  land  the  labour  and  the  capital  that  make  it 
fully  productive,  and  that  the  productiveness  of  the 
soil  is  one  of  the  first  conditions  of  the  wellbeing  of 
the  whole  community.  The  transition  from  the  com- 
mon ownership  of  land  which  existed  when  mankind 
were  thinly  scattered  nomads  and  hunters,  to  a  divided 
land  cultivated  and  fertilised  by  individual  industry, 
was  one  of  the  first  and  most  valuable  steps  in  the  pro- 
gress of  civilisation.  Nothing  also  in  morals  is  more 
plain  than  that  to  abolish  without  compensation  that 
private  ownership  which  has  existed  unquestioned  for 
countless  generations,  and  on  the  faith  of  which  tens 
of  thousands  of  men  in  all  ages  and  lands,  and  with 
the  sanction  and  under  the  guarantee  of  the  laws  of  all 
nations,  have  invested  the  fruits  of  their  industry  and 
their  thrift,  would  be  an  act  of  simple,  gross,  naked, 
gigantic  robbery.     Were  it  not  so,  indeed,  the  words 


CH.  II.       THE  UNEARNED  INCREMENT         213 

*  honesty  '  and  '  dishonesty  '  would  have  no  real  mean- 
ing. Yet  such  a  proposal  has  been  warmly  welcomed, 
such  a  measure  has  been  eagerly  advocated,  by  many 
who  would  be  very  indignant  if  they  were  described  as 
the  accomplices  of  thieves,  and  who  would  probably  be 
perfectly  incapable  in  their  private  capacities  of  an  act 
of  dishonesty.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  the  State  simply 
purchased  honestly  the  land  of  the  country,  and 
placed  itself  in  the  position  of  the  landlord,  it  is  easy 
to  show  that  the  whole  transaction  could  only  end  in  a 
ruinous  loss.  The  position  of  the  occupying  tenant 
would  be  unchanged,  except  that  he  would  pay  his 
rent,  not  to  a  private  individual,  but  to  the  representa- 
tive of  the  State.  The  purchase  money  could  only  be 
raised  by  a  colossal  loan,  which  would  have  to  be  paid 
for  in  the  shape  of  interest.  The  returns  from  land  are 
so  small  that,  far  from  furnishing  a  surplus  for  the  re- 
lief of  taxation,  they  would,  in  most  cases,  be  insuffi- 
cient to  pay  the  simple  interest  of  this  loan,  even  if  it 
could  be  raised  on  ordinary  terms.  But  every  compe- 
tent judge  must  know  the  utter  impossibility  of  raising 
such  a  loan  at  the  ordinary  price,  and  without  produ- 
cing a  financial  convulsion  probably  more  tremendous 
than  any  that  the  world  has  seen.' 

Another  doctrine  which,  in  different  forms,  has 
spread  widely  through  public  opinion  is  that  of  Mill 
about  Hhe  unearned  increment.'  Starting  from  the 
belief  that  the  value  of  land  has  a  natural  tendency  to 
increase  through  the  progress  of  society,  and  without 
any  exertion  or  sacrifice  on  the  part  of  the  owner.  Mill 
proposed   that  this  '  unearned  increment '  should  be 


'  Mr.  Fawcett  has  dealt  fully      State  Socialism  and  the  Nation^ 
with  this  aspect  of  the  question      alisation  of  Land  (1883). 
in  an  admirable  pamphlet  called 


214  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  ii. 

steadily  intercepted  and  appropriated  by  the  State  in 
the  form  of  taxation.  It  was  true,  Mill  acknowledged, 
that  men  had  long  bought  land,  which  brings  a  smaller 
return  than  almost  any  other  form  of  investment, 
through  a  belief  that  their  income  would  gradually  in- 
crease, and  with  an  implied  assurance  that  they  would 
only  be  taxed  in  proportion  to  other  incomes.  Mill, 
however,  very  honestly  met  this  objection  by  maintain- 
ing that  the  confiscation  of  the  increment  should  only 
take  place  from  the  present  time  and  with  due  notice, 
and  that  the  landlord  should  have  the  alternative  of 
receiving  from  the  State  the  present  market  value, 
which  includes  the  present  value  of  all  future  expecta- 
tions. 

In  the  long  period  of  agricultural  depression  through 
which  England  and  most  other  countries  have  passed 
the  doctrine  of  '  an  unearned  increment '  wears  an 
aspect  of  irony.  For  many  years  the  market  value  of 
agricultural  land,  instead  of  rising,  has  been  steadily 
falling,  and  history  clearly  shows  that  the  same  pheno- 
menon has  taken  place  in  many  long  periods  and  in 
many  great  countries.  If  the  State  takes  from  the 
owner  by  exceptional  taxation  the  normal  rise  in  the 
value  of  his  land,  it  may  very  reasonably  be  expected 
by  exceptional  legislation  to  compensate  him  for  its  fall. 

No  statement  can  be  more  palpably  untrue  than  that 
*  unearned  increment '  is  a  thing  in  any  degree  peculiar 
to  land.  The  growth  of  population  and  the  develop- 
ment of  civilisation  exercise  exactly  the  same  influence 
on  the  shares  of  a  railway  or  a  dockyard  ;  on  the  wages 
of  the  labourer  ;  on  the  fees  of  the  professional  man  ;  on 
the  masterpieces  of  art,  on  the  value  of  innumerable 
articles  of  commerce.  In  countless  cases  property  is 
increased,  or  industry  and  ability  reap  larger  rewards 
in  consequence  of  changes  which   do  not  lie  within 


CH.  II.       THE  UNEARNED  INCREMENT         215 

themselves,  and  to  which  they  have  contributed  no- 
thing, but  which  are  wholly  due  to  extraneous  and  si^r- 
rounding  circumstances.  Ask  any  rich  man  which  of 
his  investments,  without  any  sacrifice  or  exertion  on 
his  part,  have  doubled  or  trebled  in  value,  and  you 
will  find  that  in  the  great  majority  of  cases  they  have 
no  connection  with  land.  What  reason  is  there,  there- 
fore, for  selecting  for  exceptional  and  penal  taxation 
the  single  form  of  property  which  usually  produces 
the  least  return,  and  which  is  associated  to  the  great- 
est degree  with  the  discharge  of  duties  that  are  emi- 
nently useful  to  the  State  ?  And  this  proposal  is 
made  in  a  country  Avhere  so  large  an  amount  of  money 
has  been  sunk  in  land  by  many  generations  of  pro- 
prietors that  the  actual  rent  would  represent,  in  very 
many  instances,  nothing  more  than  the  lowest  interest 
on  the  outlay  ;  in  a  country  where  the  value  of  per- 
sonal property  enormously  exceeds  that  of  land,  and 
has  been,  during  the  last  century  and  a  half,  advancing 
with  a  vastly  greater  rapidity.  According  to  Sir 
Eobert  Giffen,  land  in  England  constituted  in  1690 
about  60  per  cent,  of  the  national  wealth,  and  in  1800 
about  40  per  cent.  In  the  United  Kingdom  it  con- 
stituted, in  1812,  44  per  cent.  ;  in  1865,  30  per  cent.  ; 
in  1875,  24  per  cent. ;  in  1884,  only  17  per  cent.^ 

The  true  explanation  of  such  proposals  is  political. 
It  is  to  be  found  in  that  almost  rabid  hatred  of  the 
landed  interest,  growing  out  of  political  antagonism, 
which  has  characterised  large  bodies  of  English  Rad- 
icals, and  which,  in  a  time  when  the  deep  agricultural 
depression  forms  probably  our  most  serious  national 
evil  and  danger,  makes  the  increased  taxation  of  land 
one  of  the  most  popular  of  Radical  cries. 


•  Giffen's  Growth  of  Capital,  pp.  111-12. 


216  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  ir. 

One  argument,  upon  which  much  stress  has  been 
put,  but  which  has  now,  in  a  great  degree,  lost  its 
force,  is  that  the  land  of  the-  country  is  the  source  of 
the  food  on  which  its  people  depend,  and  that  special 
legislation  ought  therefore  to  prevent  it  from  being  in 
the  uncontrolled  power  of  the  few.  As  I  have  already- 
said,  I  believe  that,  if  any  clear  case  of  public  welfare 
can  be  established,  the  Government  has  the  right  to 
take  complete  or  partial  possession  of  the  land,  on 
condition  of  compensating  the  owners.  If  England 
■were  surrounded  by  a  brass  wall,  and  if  its  people  de- 
pended for  their  subsistence  on  the  crops  raised  within 
that  wall,  severe  restrictions  should  undoubtedly  be 
placed  on  the  use  of  great  portions  of  the  soil  for  parks 
or  sporting  purposes.  But  the  situation  is  much  mod- 
ified when  the  main  supply  of  food  for  the  people  is 
not  derived  from  English  soil,  but  comes  from  the 
United  States,  from  the  Colonies,  from  India,  and 
from  Russia,  and  when  this  supply  pours  in  with  such 
abundance  and  at  such  prices  that  the  best  English 
land  is  almost  crushed  by  the  competition,  while  the 
inferior  lands  have  become,  as  food-producing  land, 
almost  useless. 

The  unreality,  however,  of  the  speculation  that 
would  separate  landed  property  by  a  sharp  generic 
distinction  as  an  object  of  spoliation  from  all  other 
property  speedily  became  apparent.  The  same  class 
of  reasoners  soon  found  that  similar  or  analogous  ar- 
guments may  be  applied  to  other  branches  of  property, 
and  to  defence  of  other  forms  of  dishonesty.  It  is  a 
significant  fact  that  while  Mr.  George  in  his  first  book 
only  proposed  to  rob  the  landowner,  in  his  second  book 
he  proposed  equally  to  rob  the  f  undowner,  being  now 
convinced  that  the  institution  of  public  debts  and  pri- 
vate property  in  land  rested  on  the  same  basis.     In 


CH.  n.  NATIONAL  DEBTS  217 

nearly  all  the  Socialist  programmes  that  are  now  is- 
sued on  the  Continent  the  'nationalisation  of  land*  is 
included,  but  it  is  always  coupled  with  proposals  for 
the  nationalisation  of  all  capital  and  means  of  produc- 
tion, and  for  the  repudiation  of  national  debts. 

Jefferson  had  already  anticipated  these  writers  in 
their  advocacy  of  the  repudiation  of  national  debts ; 
and  it  must  be  acknowledged  that  the  arguments  for 
this  course  are  quite  as  plausible  as  those  in  favour  of 
land  spoliation.  It  is  said  that  one  generation  cannot 
bind  another  and  impose  on  it  the  interest  of  its  debts. 
We  are  reminded  that  these  debts  were  incurred  at  a 
time  when  the  masses,  who  now  consider  themselves, 
by  a  kind  of  right  divine,  the  rulers  of  the  State,  were 
almost  wholly  unrepresented,  and  for  objects  of  which 
they  altogether  disapprove.  Demagogues  are  not  want- 
ing to  persuade  them  that  the  war  of  the  American 
Eevolution  and  the  war  of  the  French  Revolution, 
which  are  responsible  for  the  greater  part  of  the  debt, 
were  mere  crimes  of  the  aristocracy,  and  crimes  di- 
rected against  the  people.  Are  the  people,  it  is  asked, 
for  ever  to  bear  the  burden  of  debts  so  incurred,  and 
incurred,  too,  when  the  national  credit  was  so  low  that 
not  more  than  701.  or  601.  was  paid  to  the  Exchequer 
for  bonds  which  now  bear  the  value  of  100?.  ? 

As  democracy  advances,  and  precedents  of  spolia- 
tion pass  into  legislation,  doctrines  of  this  kind  are 
likely  to  find  an  increasing  number  of  adherents. 
This  prospect  renders  peculiarly  alarming  the  enor- 
mous increase  of  national  debt  that  has  taken  place  in 
Europe  during  the  last  few  decades.  It  justifies  the 
wisdom  of  the  policy  of  America  in  paying  off,  even  by 
very  drastic  measures,  the  bulk  of  its  debt,  and  also  the 
great  and  praiseworthy  efforts  that  have  been  made  by 
British  Governments  in  the  same  direction. 


218  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  n. 

Mining  royalties  stand  on  the  same  footing  as  private 
property  in  land.  They  are  a  kind  of  property  which 
has  been  for  generations  bought,  sold,  mortgaged,  and 
bequeathed  with  the  full  sanction  of  the  law,  and  they 
have  been  estimated  in  the  British  Isles  at  the  enor- 
mous sum  of  eight  millions  a  year.  There  is  a  party, 
though  happily  not  a  large  one,  who  openly  advocate 
their  simple  confiscation.  Thus  the  Glasgow  Trade 
Council  passed  a  resolution,  'That  this  Council  in- 
structs the  secretary  to  state  to  the  (Mining  Eoyalties) 
Commission  that  it  is  in  favour  of  mining  royalties  be- 
coming national  property  without  compensation  being 
given.*  Similar  views  are  frequently  expressed  in  So- 
cialist literature,  and  they  were  put  forward  by  some 
witnesses  before  the  Labour  Commission,  the  most  con- 
spicuous upholder  of  this  shameless  dishonesty  being  a 
Radical  member  of  Parliament.^ 

Another  kind  of  property  which  has  been  the  sub- 
ject of  much  more  or  less  ingenious  sophistry  is  lite- 
rary property.  The  right  of  an  author  to  the  profits  of 
the  book  he  has  written  rests  on  the  highest  and  sim- 
plest title  by  which  property  can  be  held — that  of 
creation.  The  author  made  it.  His  title  to  what  he 
has  himself  created,  like  that  of  the  labourer  to  what 
he  has  himself  earned,  is  certainly  more  direct,  if  it  is 
not  of  a  higher  kind,  than  that  of  any  species  of  pro- 
perty which  is  simply  hereditary.  But  the  peculiarity 
of  literary  property  is,  that  while  it  may  be  of  great 
value  to  its  author,  and  of  great  utility  to  mankind,  it 
may  be  stolen  with  peculiar  facility,  and  in  a  different 
way  from  most  other  kinds  of  property.  Like  a  bank- 
note, its  value  is  destroyed  if  every  one  is  allowed  to 
reproduce  it,  and  hence  laws  of  copyright  have  been 


»  Spyers,  The  Labour  Question,  pp.  128-30. 


CH.  It  LITERARY  PROPERTY  219 

found  necessary  to  protect  it.  Among  all  the  forms  of 
property,  few  are  so  imperfectly  protected  as  this  ;  but 
^there  are  some  who  would  abolish  it  altogether,  refus- 
ing all  legal  protection  to  literary  property.  One  of 
their  arguments  is,  that  an  author  merely  gives  a  form 
to  ideas  and  knowledge  which  are  floating  in  the  intel- 
lectual atmosphere  around  him,  and  which  are  the 
common  property  of  all  men,  and  has,  therefore,  no 
exclusive  right  to  what  he  has  written.  If  this  be 
true — and  it  is  far  from  being  absolutely  so — the  sim- 
ple answer  is,  that  it  is  to  the  form  alone,  which  is  his 
own  work,  that  he  claims  an  exclusive  right.  A  sculp- 
tor's right  of  property  in  his  statue  is  not  destroyed  by 
the  fact  that  the  clay  and  the  marble  existed  before  he 
touched  them  with  his  chisel.  An  author  claims  no 
monopoly  in  his  ideas ;  but  the  form  in  which  he 
moulds  them  is  so  essentially  the  main  element  in  the 
question,  that  the  distinction  is  for  all  practical  pur- 
poses trivial.  There  is  no  idea  in  Gray's  Elegy  which 
has  not  passed  through  thousands  of  minds.  Gray 
alone  gave  them  the  form  which  is  immortal. 

It  is  said  that  an  author  is  a  '  monopolist '  because  he 
claims  an  exclusive  right  of  selling  his  book,  and  that  his 
claim  is  therefore  opposed  to  the  doctrine  of  free  trade. 
But  this  is  a  pure  confusion  of  thought.  In  the  sense 
of  political  economy,  a  man  is  a  monopolist  who  pre- 
vents others  from  pursuing  a  form  of  industry  which 
they  might  have  pursued  independently  of  him,  and 
had  he  not  existed.  He  is  not  a  monopolist  if  he  only 
prevents  them  from  appropriating  what  he  alone  has 
made,  and  what  would  not  have  existed  without  him. 
An  author  is  a  monopolist  in  no  other  sense  than  a  pro- 
prietor or  labourer  who  claims  the  exclusive  possession 
of  his  own  earnings  or  his  own  inheritance.  If  I  write 
ihe  history  of  a  particular  period,  I  claim  no  legal  right 


220  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  n. 

of  debarring  others  from  writing  about  the  same  period, 
or  using  the  materials  that  I  have  used.  I  claim  only 
an  exclusive  right  in  that  specific  work  which  I  have 
myself  made.  A  fisherman  would  be  rightly  called  a 
monopolist  if  he  excluded  all  others  from  fishing  in  the 
sea.  He  is  not  rightly  called  a  monopolist  if  he  only 
claims  an  exclusive  right  to  dispose  of  the  fish  which 
he  has  himself  caught  in  the  sea,  which  is  open  to  all.^ 

But  the  author,  it  is  said,  is  under  a  special  obliga- 
tion to  the  State  because  his  property  is  protected  by  a 
special  law.  The  answer  is,  that  the  very  object  for 
which  all  governments  are  primarily  created,  and  for 
which  all  taxes  are  paid,  is  the  protection  of  life  and 
property.  A  government  in  protecting  property  is 
simply  discharging  its  most  elementary  duty.  Dif- 
ferent kinds  of  property  may  be  invaded,  and  must 
therefore  be  protected  in  different  ways  ;  and,  as  a  mat- 
ter of  fact,  the  protection  of  literature  costs  the  State 
much  less  in  labour,  in  money,  and  in  popularity  than 
the  protection  of  pheasants. 

Others  again  contend  for  what  they  call  the  nationali- 
sation of  the  means  of  communication,  or,  in  other 
words,  the  appropriation  of  the  railways  and  all  other 
public  conveyances  by  the  State.  If  by  this  term  is 
meant  that  the  Government  should  either  construct,  or 


•  Locke's  remarks  about  land-  in,  it  hath  by  this  labour  some- 

ed  property  appear  to  me  very  thing  annexed  to  it  that  excludes 

eminently   applicable  to   copy-  the  common  right  of  other  men. 

right.     '  Whatsoever  a  man  re-  For,  this  labour  being  the  un- 

moves  out  of  the  state  that  Na-  questionable  property  of  the  la- 

ture  hath  provided  and  left  it  bourer,  no  man  but  he  can  have 

in,  he   hath   mixed   his   labour  a  right   to    what  that  is   once 

with,  and  joined  to  it  something  joined  to,  at  least  where  there 

that  is   his   own,   and  thereby  is  enough  and  as  good  left  in 

makes  it  his  property.     It  being  common  for  others '  (Locke  On 

by  him  removed  from  the  com-  Civil  Government^  c.  v.). 
mon  state  Nature  hath  placed  it 


CH.  II.  THE  CLAIMS  OF  SOCIALISM  221 

purchase  at  a  fair  price,  the  railways  within  its  do- 
minion, there  is  no  objection  of  principle  to  be  raised. 
The  system  of  State  railways  exists  in  many  countries. 
In  judging  whether  it  is  for  the  advantage  of  the  na- 
tion as  a  whole,  we  have  to  consider  a  large  number  of 
conflicting  and  closely  balanced  advantages  and  disad- 
vantages, and  the  preponderance  in  each  country  must 
be  decided  according  to  its  own  special  economical  cir- 
cumstances. It  is  also  universally  admitted  that  the 
State,  having  given  great  privileges  and  powers  to  a 
railway  company,  is  perfectly  justified  in  imposing  upon 
it  many  restrictions.  But  when  it  is  claimed  that  the 
State  may,  without  purchase,  or  at  a  rate  of  compensa- 
tion below  its  real  value,  take  possession  of  a  railway, 
depriving  of  their  property  the  shareholders  at  whose 
risk  and  cost  it  was  made,  it  can  only  be  answered  that 
such  a  claim  is  simple  and  naked  robbery.  And  the 
same  thing  may  be  confidently  asserted  of  many  other 
ambitious  schemes  for  '  nationalising '  all  great  indus- 
trial undertakings  and  absorbing  all  capital  into  the 
State.  If  the  element  of  just  purchase  enters  into 
these  transactions,  they  would  only  result  in  a  great 
financial  catastrophe.  If  purchase  or  compensation 
be  refused,  the  catastrophe  would  not  be  averted,  but 
the  process  would  be  one  of  gigantic  robbery. 

Such  schemes  for  turning  the  State  into  the  univer- 
sal landlord,  the  universal  manufacturer,  the  universal 
shopkeeper,  reorganising  from  its  foundations  the  whole 
industrial  system  of  the  world,  excluding  from  it  all 
competition  and  all  the  play  of  individual  emulation 
and  ambition,  can  never,  I  believe,  be  even  approxi- 
mately realised  ;  but  no  one  who  watches  the  growth 
of  Socialist  opinion  in  nearly  all  countries  can  doubt 
that  many  steps  will  be  taken  in  this  direction  in  a  not 
remote  future. 


222  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  ii. 

The  question  in  what  degree  and  in  what  manner  the 
demands  that  are  rising  may  be  wisely  met  is  of  the 
utmost  importance.  The  subject  is  one  which  I  pro- 
pose to  discuss  at  some  length  in  later  chapters.  Two 
things  may  here  be  said.  One  is,  that  in  an  over- 
crowded country  like  England,  whose  prosperity  rests 
much  less  on  great  natural  resources  than  on  the  con- 
tinuance of  a  precarious  and  highly  artificial  commer- 
cial and  manufacturing  supremacy,  any  revolution  that 
may  lead  to  a  migration  of  capital  or  the  destruction 
of  credit  is  more  than  commonly  dangerous.  The 
other  is,  that  this  class  of  questions  is  eminently  one  in 
which  consequences  that  are  obscure,  intricate,  indirect, 
and  remote  are  often,  in  the  long  run,  more  important 
than  those  which  are  obvious  and  immediate. 

Is  the  parliamentary  system  in  the  democratic  form 
which  it  has  of  late  years  assumed  well  fitted  for  wisely 
dealing  with  these  difficult  and  dangerous  questions  ? 
Let  any  one  observe  how  steadily  and  rapidly  the  stable 
forces,  which  in  old  days  shaped  and  guided  the  course 
of  English  politics,  are  losing  their  influence.  Let  him 
watch  closely  a  great  popular  election,  and  observe  how 
largely  the  chance  of  a  candidate  depends  upon  his  skill 
in  appealing  to  the  direct  and  immediate  interests,  or 
supposed  interests,  of  large  sections  of  the  electorate  ; 
in  making  use  of  claptrap  and  popular  cries  ;  in  in- 
flaming class  animosities  and  antipathies,  and  pledging 
himself  so  far  as  to  conciliate  many  distinct  groups  of 
faddists.  Let  him  then  observe  how  Parliament  itself 
is  breaking  into  small  groups ;  how  the  permanent 
forces  of  intelligence  and  property,  which  once  enabled 
governments  to  pursue  their  paths  independently  of 
fluctuating  or  transient  gusts  of  ignorant  opinion,  are 
weakened  ;  how  large  a  part  of  legislation,  especially  in 
the  closing  period  of  a  Parliament,  is  manifestly  in- 


CH.  II.  THE  VOICE  OF  THE  PEOPLE  223 

tended  for  mere  electioneering  purposes  ;  how  very  few 
public  men  look  much  beyond  the  interests  of  their 
party  and  the  chances  of  an  election.  He  must  be  a 
sanguine  man  who  can  look  across  such  a  scene  with 
much  confidence  to  the  future. 

He  will  not,  if  he  is  a  wise  man,  be  reassured  by  the 
prevailing  habit,  so  natural  in  democracies,  of  canonis- 
ing, and  almost  idolising,  mere  majorities,  even  when 
they  are  mainly  composed  of  the  most  ignorant  men, 
voting  under  all  the  misleading  influences  of  side-issues 
and  violent  class  or  party  passions.  '  The  voice  of  the 
people,'  as  expressed  at  the  polls,  is  to  many  politicians 
the  sum  of  all  wisdom,  the  supreme  test  of  truth  or 
falsehood.  It  is  even  more  than  this :  it  is  invested 
with  something  very  like  the  spiritual  efficacy  which 
theologians  have  ascribed  to  baptism.  It  is  supposed 
to  wash  away  all  sin.  However  unscrupulous,  however 
dishonest,  may  be  the  acts  of  a  party  or  of  a  statesman, 
they  are  considered  to  be  justified  beyond  reproach  if 
they  have  been  condoned  or  sanctioned  at  a  general 
election.  It  has  sometimes  happened  that  a  politician 
has  been  found  guilty  of  a  grave  personal  offence  by  an 
intelligent  and  impartial  jury,  after  a  minute  investi- 
gation of  evidence,  conducted  with  the  assistance  of 
highly  trained  advocates,  and  under  the  direction  of  an 
experienced  judge.  He  afterwards  finds  a  constituency 
which  will  send  him  to  Parliament,  and  the  newspapers 
of  his  party  declare  that  his  character  is  now  clear. 
He  has  been  absolved  by  '  the  great  voice  of  the  people.' 
Truly  indeed  did  Carlyle  say  that  the  superstitions  to 
be  feared  in  the  present  day  are  much  less  religious 
than  political ;  and  of  all  the  forms  of  idolatry  I  know 
none  more  irrational  and  ignoble  than  this  blind  wor- 
ship of  mere  numbers. 

It  has  led  many  politicians  to  subordinate  all  notions 


224  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  ir. 

of  right  and  wrong  to  the  wishes  or  interests  of  majori- 
ties, and  to  act  on  the  maxim  that  the  end  justifies  the 
means  quite  as  audaciously  as  the  most  extreme  Jesuit 
casuists.  This  new  Jesuitism  has,  indeed,  much  real 
affinity  with  the  old  one.  The  root  idea  of  the  old 
Jesuitism  was -a  strongly  realised  conviction  that  the 
Catholic  Church  is  so  emphatically  the  inspired  teacher 
of  mankind,  and  the  representative  of  the  Deity  upon 
earth,  that  no  act  can  be  immoral  which  is  performed 
in  its  service  and  is  conducive  to  its  interests.  The 
root  idea  of  the  new  Jesuitism  is  the  belief  that  the 
moral  law  has  no  deeper  foundation  and  no  higher 
sanction  than  utility,  and  that  the  greatest  happiness 
of  the  greatest  number  is  its  supreme  test  and  ideal. 
From  this  it  is  easily  inferred  that  minorities  have  no 
rights  as  against  majorities.  In  both  cases,  too,  the 
love  of  power  plays  a  great  part.  The  old  Jesuit 
found  in  his  doctrine  a  strong  lever  for  governing  the 
Church  and  influencing  the  world.  The  new  Jesuit 
finds  his  doctrine  peculiarly  useful  in  a  society  in  which 
all  political  power  is  obtained  by  winning  the  votes  of  a 
majority.  Many  good  Catholics  Avill  maintain  that  the 
old  Jesuit  misread  the  teaching  of  the  Church,  and 
some  of  them  believe  that  religion  has  had  no  worse 
enemy  than  a  society  which  has  associated  the  most 
sacred  Name  given  among  men  with  falsehood,  impos- 
ture, unscrupulous  tyranny,  and  intrigue.  Many  good 
utilitarians  will  say  that  the  new  Jesuit  has  calculated 
falsely  the  balance  of  utilities,  and  that  no  course  of 
policy  which  shakes  the  security  of  property  or  contract, 
and  the  rights  of  minorities,  can  be,  in  its  far-off  re- 
sults, for  the  benefit  of  the  majority.  But  in  each 
case  the  inference  of  the  Jesuit  is  plausible  and  natural, 
and  it  is  an  inference  that  is  certain  to  be  drawn. 
Some  of  my  readers  will  probably  consider  it  fanciful 


CH.  II.  MORAL  PHILOSOPHY  AND  POLITICS  225 

to  attribute  to  theories  of  moral  philosophy  any  influ- 
ence over  political  conduct.  In  England,  speculative 
opinion  has  not  usually  much  weight  in  practical  poli- 
tics, and  English  politicians  are  very  apt  to  treat  it  with 
complete  disdain.  Yet  no  one  who  ha^  any  real  know- 
ledge of  history  can  seriously  doubt  the  influence  over 
human  affairs  which  has  been  exercised  by  the  specula- 
tions of  Locke,  of  Rousseau,  of  Montesquieu,  of  Adam 
Smith,  or  of  Bentham.  The  force  and  the  intensity 
which  the  doctrine  of  nationalities  has  of  late  years  as- 
sumed throughout  Europe  is  not  unconnected  with  the 
new  importance  which  speculative  writers  have  given 
to  race  aflBnities  and  characteristics,  and  something  of 
the  current  Eadical  notions  about  land  is  certainly  due 
to  our  increased  knowledge  of  the  wide  diffusion,  in  the 
early  stages  of  society,  of  joint  or  communal  ownership 
of  the  soil. 

So,  too,  I  believe  the  views  of  many  politicians  have 
been  not  a  little  coloured  by  the  doctrines  of  moral 
philosophy,  which  have  of  late  years  been  widely  popu- 
lar, and  which  reduce  our  conceptions  of  right  and 
wrong,  justice  or  injustice,  to  mere  general  utility,  or  a 
calculation  of  interests.  Philosophy  has  its  fanatics  as 
well  as  religion,  and  to  this  conception  of  ethics  may 
be  largely  traced  the  utter  unscrupulousness  in  dealing 
with  the  rights  of  minorities  which  is  sometimes  found 
among  men  who  are  certainly  not  mere  unprincipled 
self-seekers.  In  every  conflict  of  interests  between  the 
few  who  own  a  thing,  or  have  produced  it,  or  paid  for 
it,  or  run  the  risks  attending  it,  and  the  many  who 
wish  to  enjoy  it,  this  bias  may  be  discerned.  In  the 
eyes  of  many  politicians,  all  differences  between  the 
landlord  and  his  tenants,  between  the  author  and  his 
readers,  between  railway-shareholders  and  the  travelling 
public,  between  the  producer  and  the  consumers,  are 

VOL.  1.  16 


226  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  ii. 

simply  regarded  as  conflicts  between  the  few  and  the 
many,  and  the  rights  of  the  few  cease  to  have  any  bind- 
ing force  if  their  destruction  is  likely  to  confer  an  im- 
mediate benefit  on  the  many. 

Herbert  Spencer  has  said,  with  profound  truth  and 
wisdom,  that  '  the  end  Avhich  the  statesman  should  keep 
in  view  as  higher  than  all  other  ends  is  the  formation 
of  character/  It  is  on  this  side  that  democratic  poli- 
tics seem  to  me  peculiarly  weak.  Let  us  once  more 
look  at  the  representative  body.  Even  taking  the  low- 
est test,  can  it  be  confidently  said  that  its  moral  level 
is  what  it  was  ?  Too  much  stress  may  perhaps  be 
laid  on  the  many  grave  private  scandals  that  have  taken 
place  among  its  members  within  the  last  twenty  or 
thirty  years.  It  is  impossible,  however,  not  to  be  struck 
by  the  number  of  cases  in  which  members  of  that 
House  have  during  this  space  of  time  been  found 
guilty  of  acts  of  financial  dishonesty  that  brought  them 
within  the  scope  of  the  criminal  law,  or  of  other  forms 
of  immorality  sufficiently  grave  to  come  before  the  law 
courts.  The  House  of  Commons  consists  of  670  mem- 
bers. About  the  year  1892  the  committee  of  a  great 
London  club  containing  nearly  twice  as  many  members 
had  their  attention  called  to  the  fact  that,  by  a  curious 
omission  in  their  rules,  no  provision  had  been  made 
for  the  expulsion  of  any  member  who,  without  breaking 
the  precise  rules  of  the  club,  had  been  guilty  of  any  of 
tliose  gross  scandals  which  make  men  unfit  for  the  so- 
ciety of  gentlemen.  The  omission  had  been  unnoticed 
because,  although  the  club  had  existed  since  1834,  no 
such  case  had  arisen  among  its  members.  It  would  be 
unreasonable  to  expect  from  a  body  elected  under  such 
stormy  and  contentious  conditions  as  the  House  of 
Commons  a  standard  as  high  as  that  in  the  Athenasum 
Club,  but  surely   the  contrast   is  too  great  and  too 


CH.  n.  HOUSE  OF  COMMONS  ETHICS  227 

marked  to  be  lightly  dismissed.  And  if  we  extend  our 
survey  beyond  England,  and  count  up  the  instances  of 
gross  profligacy  or  dishonesty  which  have  been  de- 
tected, often  in  very  high  places,  in  the  Parliaments 
of  the  Continent,  of  the  United  States,  and  of  the 
Colonies,  in  the  present  generation,  the  evidence  will 
accumulate,  showing  how  little  democratic  election  se- 
cures a  high  standard  of  integrity  and  morality. 

The  House  of  Commons,  however,  as  I  have  before 
said,  i^  essentially  a  body  of  trustees,  and  it  is  by  their 
performance  of  their  public  duty  that  its  members  must 
be  chiefly  judged.  Is  it  too  much  to  say  that,  in  the 
opinion  of  the  great  body  of  educated  men,  there  has 
been  in  this  respect  a  marked  decline  ?  I  am  anxious 
on  this  subject  to  avoid  all  exaggeration.  It  is  not  yet 
true  of  England,  as  it  is  of  America,  that  the  best  men 
in  intellect  and  character  avoid  public  life,  though 
there  are  ominous  signs  that  this  may  before  long  be 
the  case.  Parliament  still  contains  a  large  body  of 
such  men,  and  there  have  been  several  conspicuous 
modern  instances  showing  how  much  the  weight  of 
character  still  tells  in  public  life.  Probably  a  large 
proportion  of  my  readers  will  be  of  opinion  that  the 
year  1886  witnessed  the  worst  act  of  modern  English 
politics ;  but  it  at  least  brought  with  it  the  consoling 
spectacle  of  a  large  body  of  public  men,  several  of  them 
of  the  highest  political  eminence,  deliberately  and  with- 
out any  possible  selfish  motive  breaking  old  ties  and 
sacrificing  political  ambition  rather  than  take  part  in 
a  disgraceful  scene.  But,  on  the  whole,  can  any  one 
doubt  that  apostasies  have  been  more  shameless,  class 
bribes  more  habitual,  and  the  tone  of  the  House  of 
Commons  less  high,  than  in  the  last  generation  ;  that 
principles  are  more  lightly  held  and  direct  party  in- 
terests more  habitually  followed ;    that   measures   of 


228  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  ii. 

great  and  far-reaching  importance  are  more  recklessly 
launched  for  mere  electioneering  purposes;  that  men 
to  whom,  in  private  conversation,  not  one  educated 
man  out  of  a  hundred  would  ascribe  any  real  sincerity 
or  weight  of  conviction,  are  playing  a  more  leading 
part  in  English  public  life  ?  I  have  elsewhere  dwelt 
on  the  profound  and  indelible  impression  made  in  the 
last  century  by  the  coalition  between  Fox  and  North. 
These  two  able,  honourable,  and  in  most  respects  pa- 
triotic, politicians,  had  been  fiercely  divided  on  the 
question  of  the  American  War,  and  Fox  had  used  the 
strongest  language  against  his  opponent,  denouncing 
him  as  the  enemy  of  British  freedom,  and  describing 
him  as  worthy  of  death  upon  the  scaffold.  The  Ameri- 
can War  ceased ;  the  controversies  it  produced  were 
closed,  and  then  Fox  made  an  alliance  with  North  for 
the  purpose  of  keeping  out  of  office  a  statesman  whom 
they  disliked  and  distrusted.  Nothing  in  the  English 
pafliamentary  history  of  the  eighteenth  century  more 
profoundly  shocked  the  public  mind  and  conscience 
than  this  transaction,  and  Fox,  at  least,  never  recovered 
the  discredit  which  the  coalition  left  upon  his  charac- 
ter. Yet,  after  all,  both  of  these  statesmen  were  men  un- 
doubtedly devoted  to  the  interests  of  the  great  empire 
they  ruled,  and  after  the  termination  of  the  American 
War  there  was  no  capital  subject  of  present  difference 
between  them. 

Compare  this  transaction  with  the  alliance  which  gave 
the  Liberal  leaders  eighty-five  Home  Eule  votes  in  1886, 
and  placed  them  in  a  close  bond  of  union  with  the  very 
men  whom  they  had  so  lately  denounced  and  imprisoned 
for  treason  to  the  Empire,  and  for  most  deliberately  in- 
citing to  dishonesty  and  crime.  Those  who  will  judge 
public  men  by  their  acts,  and  not  by  their  professions, 
can  have  little  difficulty  in  pointing  the  moral. 


CH.  II.  THE  CHANGED  CONSTITUENCIES  229 

Few  persons  will  question  that  this  transaction 
would  have  been  impossible  in  the  Parliaments  before 
the  Keform  Bill  of  1867.  In  the  days  of  middle-class 
ascendency  every  politician  found  it  necessary  to  place 
himself  in  general  harmony  with  average  educated 
opinion.  A  very  slight  shifting  of  that  opinion,  es- 
pecially in  the  smaller  boroughs,  could  be  decisive. 
There  was  always  an  ultimate  court  of  appeal,  whicli 
could  be  relied  on  to  judge  promptly,  with  shrewdness 
and  patriotism,  and  some  real  knowledge  of  the  facts 
of  the  case.  Mere  rhetoric  and  claptrap  ;  brilliant 
talent,  unallied  with  judgment ;  coalitions  to  carry 
some  measure  which  the  country  condemned  by  unit- 
ing it  with  a  number  of  bribes  offered  to  many  different 
classes  ;  policies  in  which  great  national  interests  were 
sacrificed  to  personal  ambition  or  to  party  tricks  ;  the 
dexterity  which  multiplies,  evades,  or  confuses  issues, 
had  seldom  even  a  temporary  success.  The  judgment 
of  average  educated  men  on  the  whole  prevailed  ;  and 
although  that  judgment  may  not  be  very  quick  or  far- 
seeing,  or  open  to  new  ideas,  it  rarely  failed  to  arrive 
at  a  just  estimate  of  a  practical  issue. 

But  the  changes  that  introduced  into  the  con- 
stituencies a  much  larger  proportion  of  ignorance,  in- 
difference, or  credulity  soon  altered  the  conditions  of 
politics.  The  element  of  uncertainty  was  greatly  in- 
creased. Politicians  learned  to  think  less  of  convincing 
the  reason  of  the  country  than  of  combining  hetero- 
geneous and  independent  groups,  or  touching  some 
strong  chord  of  widespread  class  interest  or  prejudice. 
The  sense  of  shame  to  a  remarkable  degree  diminished. 
It  would  once  have  been  intolerable  to  an  English 
public  man  to  believe  that,  in  spite  of  all  differences 
of  opinion,  he  was  not  followed  through  life  and  to  the 
grave  by  the  respect  of  the  great  body  of  his  educated 


230  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  ii. 

fellow-countrymen.  This  sentiment  lias  greatly  faded. 
Men  have  now  become  very  indifferent  to  what  they 
would  nickname  the  opinion  of  the  classes  or  the 
clubs,  provided  they  can  succeed,  by  the  methods  I 
have  described,  in  winning  a  majority  and  obtaining 
power  and  office.  The  party  game  is  played  more 
keenly  and  more  recklessly,  and  traditional  feelings  as 
well  as  traditional  customs  have  greatly  lost  their  force. 

This  tendency  is  increased  by  the  extreme  rush  and 
hurry  of  modern  life,  which  naturally  produces  some 
levity  of  character.  A  constant  succession  of  new  im- 
pressions and  ideas  takes  away  from  societies,  as  from 
individuals,  the  power  of  feeling  anything  deeply  and 
persistently.  Disgrace  never  seems  indelible  when  it 
is  so  soon  forgotten,  and  the  strong,  steady  currents  of 
national  sentiment  and  tendency,  on  which  the  great- 
ness of  empires  depends,  become  impossible.  Con- 
tinuity of  policy  is  more  difficult,  and,  with  a  jaded 
political  palate,  the  appetite  for  experiment  and  sensa- 
tion becomes  more  powerful. 

In  the  whole  field  of  politics,  personal  and  class  in- 
terests seem  to  have  grown  stronger  ;  and  the  latter  are 
often  not  even  those  of  a  very  large  class.  The  objects 
of  an  ordinary  trade  strike  have  begun  to  blend  power- 
fully with  national  politics.  In  the  dockyard  towns, 
it  has  long  been  said  that  questions  of  wages,  salaries, 
or  employment  dominate  over  all  others.  There  have 
been  instances  in  which  the  political  votes  of  the  police 
force,  of  the  Post-office  officials,  of  the  Civil  Service 
clerks,  have  been  avowedly  marshalled  for  the  purpose 
of  obtaining  particular  class  advantages.^    In  county 


'  A  remarkable  paper,  giving     will    be    found  in  the  Times, 
instances  in  which  this  kind  of      October  15,  1892. 
pressure    has  been    employed, 


CH.  II.  POLITICAL  CRIMES  231 

councils  and  other  small  elective  bodies,  it  is  probable 
that  these  motives  will,  in  England  as  in  America,  be 
easily  and  efficaciously  employed.  When  the  votes  of  a 
body  of  men  in  a  nearly  balanced  contest  may  be  pur- 
chased with  public  money,  or  at  least  lost  if  public 
money  is  withheld,  a  higher  standard  of  public  virtue 
than  is  now  general  is  required  to  resist  a  mode  of 
bribery  which  is  at  once  cheap,  easy,  and  not  illegal. 
A  powerful  trade  union  may  capture  a  small  elected 
body,  and  a  weak  government  resting  on  a  fluctuating 
and  a  disintegrated  majority  is  strongly  tempted  to 
conciliate  every  detached  group  of  voters. 

The  reader  must  judge  for  himself  whether  this 
picture  is  untrue  or  overcharged  ;  if  he  believes  it  to 
be  true,  he  will  hardly  question  its  gravity.  The  evil 
I  have  described  is  much  aggravated  by  the  very  in- 
adequate sense  of  the  criminality  of  political  misdeeds 
that  prevails  widely  in  contemporary  thought.  In  the 
case  of  those  acts  of  open  violence  and  treason  which 
are  commonly  described  as  political  crimes,  this  may 
be  largely  traced  to  the  time  w^hen  power  was  in  the 
hands  of  a  very  few,  when  religious  liberty,  and  per- 
sonal liberty,  and  liberty  of  expression  were  all  un- 
known, and  when  much  of  the  highest  and  purest 
heroism  was  displayed  in  resisting  intolerable  oppres- 
sion. Much  of  the  poetic  glamour  which  was  thrown 
over  the  revolutionists  of  those  days  still  remains, 
though  in  nearly  all  countries  the  circumstances  have 
wholly  changed.  Under  the  popular  governments  of 
modern  times  revolution  is  nearly  always  a  crime,  and 
usually  a  crime  of  the  first  magnitude.  No  one,  as  I 
have  elsewhere  said,  '  who  has  any  adequate  sense  of  the 
enormous  mass  of  suffering  which  the  authors  of  a  re- 
bellion let  loose  upon  their  country  will  speak  lightly 
of  this  crime,  or  of  the  importance  of  penalties  that 


232  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  n. 

may  deter  others  from  following  in  their  steps.  .  .  . 
In  the  great  lottery  of  civil  war  the  prizes  are  enor- 
mous ;  and  when  such  prizes  may  be  obtained  by  a 
course  of  action  which  is  profoundly  injurious  to  the 
State,  the  deterrent  influence  of  severe  penalties  is 
especially  necessary.  In  the  immense  majority  of 
cases,  the  broad  distinction  which  it  is  now  the  fashion 
to  draw  between  political  and  other  crimes  is  both 
pernicious  and  untrue.  There  is  no  sphere  in  which 
the  worst  passions  of  human  nature  may  operate  more 
easily  and  more  dangerously  than  in  the  sphere  of 
politics.  There  is  no  criminal  of  a  deeper  dye  than 
the  adventurer  who  is  gambling  for  power  with  the 
lives  of  men.  There  are  no  crimes  which  produce 
vaster  or  more  enduring  suffering  than  those  which  sap 
the  great  pillars  of  order  in  the  State,  and  destroy  the 
respect  for  life,  for  property,  and  for  law  on  which  all 
true  progress  depends.^ 

Let  any  one  examine  the  chief  revolutionary  move- 
ments of  our  time,  and  he  may  soon  convince  himself 
that  by  far  the  greater  number  of  them  have  been  led 
by  some  ambitious  soldier,  or  politician,  or  pretender, 
simply  actuated  by  a  desire  for  wealth  and  power,  by  a 
wish  to  defeat  and  overthrow  a  competitor,  by  over- 
weening vanity,  or  by  a  mere  love  of  excitement,  ad- 
venture, and  notoriety.  A  man  who  through  such 
motives  makes  a  revolution  which  destroys  a  multitude 
of  lives,  ruins  the  credit  and  commerce  of  a  nation, 
scatters  far  and  wide  the  seeds  of  anarchy,  disaster  and 
long-continued  depression,  and  perhaps  begins  the 
decadence  of  his  nation,  surely  deserves  a  prompt  and 
ignominious  death  as  much  as  the  man  who,  under  the 
influence  of  want,  or  passion,  or  drink,  has  committed 
an  ordinary  murder.  A  public  opinion  is  very  morbid 
which  looks  on  these  things  as  venial.     It  is  the  cus- 


CH.  11.  POLITICAL  MORALITY  233 

torn  in  England  to  assert  that  such  crimes  as  the  mur- 
ders in  the  Phoenix  Park,  or  the  massacre  or  at- 
tempted massacre  by  an  Anarchist's  bomb  of  a  number 
of  innocent  persons  in  some  place  of  public  amuse- 
ment, are  not  'political.'  It  does  not  appear  to  me 
reasonable  to  deny  this  character  to  acts  which  were 
inspired  by  no  motive  of  private  gain  or  malice,  and 
were  directly  and  exclusively  intended  to  produce 
political  ends.  But  the  fact  that  they  were  political 
does  not  attenuate  their  atrocity,  nor  ought  it  to  miti- 
gate the  punishment  of  the  criminal. 

In  home  aifairs,  while  the  widest  toleration  should 
be  accorded  to  all  honest  diversities  of  opinion  and 
policy,  there  are  courses  of  conduct  which  involve  the 
deepest  turpitude,  and  which,  at  the  same  time,  bring 
with  them  no  legal  penalties,  and  can  only  be  re- 
strained and  punished  by  opinion.  If  a  man,  for  the 
mere  purpose  of  winning  votes,  seeks  to  plunge  his 
country  into  an  unrighteous  or  unnecessary  war,  or  to 
prolong  a  war  which  might  be  terminated  with  honour  ; 
to  set  class  against  class  and  deepen  the  lines  of  divi- 
sion and  animosity  ;  to  place  the  power  of  government 
in  the  hands  of  dishonest  or  disloyal  men,  and  assist 
them  in  carrying  out  their  designs  ;  if  for  the  sake  of 
an  office,  or  a  pension,  or  a  peerage,  he  supports  a 
policy  which  he  knows  to  be  unrighteous  or  unwise,  he 
is  certainly  committing  a  moral  offence  of  the  deepest 
dye.  Judgments  which  relate  to  motives  are,  no 
doubt,  always  uncertain,  and  ample  allowance  should 
be  made  for  the  eccentricities  of  honest  opinion.  A 
course  which  seems  to  most  men  very  iniquitous  may 
appear  to  some  men  positively  good,  or  the  lesser  of 
two  evils,  or  the  necessary  fulfilment  of  an  old  engage- 
ment, or  an  inevitable  result  of  preceding  policy.  Yet 
still  public  opinion  can,  with  a  rough  but  substantial 


234  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  ii. 

justice,  estimate  the  characters  and  the  motives  of 
public  men,  and  it  is  a  very  evil  sign  when  it  looks 
without  serious  reprobation  on  those  whom  it  believes 
to  be  acting  without  convictions  ;  to  be  playing  with 
great  national  interests  for  party  or  personal  ends,  as 
if  they  were  cards  in  a  game  or  horses  in  a  race. 

This  consideration  is  quite  compatible  with  the  fact 
that  men  acting  in  parties  are  frequently  obliged,  on 
public  grounds,  to  subordinate  their  own  judgment  on 
minor  questions  to  that  of  their  party.  They  are  often 
confronted  with  the  question  whether  supporting  a  bad 
measure  is  not  a  less  evil  than  displacing  a  good  go- 
vernment or  breaking  up  or  enfeebling  a  useful  organi- 
sation, and  they  are  often  obliged  to  vote  for  or  against 
one  measure  with  a  view  to  carrying  or  defeating  a 
totally  different  one.  They  must  look  to  the  whole 
results  of  their  conduct,  ulterior  as  well  as  proximate. 
In  France,  a  large  number  of  the  best  men  of  our  cen- 
tury have  successively  supported  more  than  one  dynasty 
and  republic,  and  they  were  not  wrong  in  doing  so. 
Though  they  preferred  one  or  other  form  of  govern- 
ment, they  considered  that  the  evils  of  instability  and 
revolution  were  so  great  that  it  was  the  part  of  a  pa- 
triotic man  to  strengthen  the  existing  form,  if  it  was 
only  a  tolerable  one,  and  endeavour  to  graft  upon  it  the 
best  characteristics  of  the  other  forms. 

In  party  parliamentary  government,  questions  of 
ethics  of  a  much  more  perplexing  character  continually 
arise.  Some  men  differ  from  the  dominant  tendencies 
of  their  party,  but  not  so  strongly  or  universally  as 
to  induce  them  to  break  formally  the  ties  of  long- 
standing engagements  ;  or  they  remain  in  it  because 
they  believe  that  it  would  be  a  great  public  calamity  if 
it  were  deprived  of  its  moderating  element,  and  thrown 
altogether  into  the  hands  of  extreme  men.     Usually, 


CH.  IL  POLITICAL  MORALITY  235 

while  the  extremes  of  rival  parties  differ  widely,  there 
is  a  frontier  line  where  the  two  parties  almost  blend. 
Sometimes,  as  in  the  latter  days  of  Lord  Palmerston's 
life,  the  lines  of  party  have  been  so  faintly  drawn  that 
a  rising  politician  might  very  reasonably  consider  it  a 
matter  of  great  indifference  to  which  party  he  attached 
himself.  At  other  times  parties  are  deeply  sundered 
by  questions  vitally  ,  affecting  the  wellbeing  of  the 
nation.  In  practical  politics  there  must  always  be 
much  compromise  and  mutual  concession ;  and,  as 
Hallam  long  since  said,  the  centrifugal  and  the  centri- 
petal forces,  which  correspond  roughly  to  the  rival 
party  tendencies,  are  both  needed  to  preserve  the  due 
balance  of  affairs.  There  are  great  evils,  as  well  as 
great  advantages,  attending  the  party  system,  and 
there  are  periods  when  these  evils  seem  brought  into  a 
more  than  common  prominence. 

All  this,  however,  is  clearly  distinct  from  the  con- 
duct of  a  politician  who,  in  matters  of  grave  national 
concern,  regulates  his  actions  with  an  exclusive  view 
to  his  own  interests.  In  English  opinion,  very  glaring 
instances  of  political  profligacy  are  distinguished 
broadly  from  acts  of  private  and  personal  dishonesty, 
such  as  malversation  in  the  administration  of  public 
funds.  But  the  distinction  is,  in  truth,  an  unreal 
one,  and  it  is  not  likely  to  last.  A  man  who  remains 
in  a  party  which  he  would  otherwise  have  abandoned, 
or  votes  for  some  important  measure  which  he  would 
have  otherwise  opposed,  because  he  has  been  bought 
by  the  offer  of  a  peerage  or  a  place,  would  probably  be 
incapable  of  swindling  and  cheating  at  cards,  but  his 
conduct  is  not  really  less  dishonourable.  The  false 
trustee  to  the  public  will  easily,  under  sufficient 
temptation,  turn  into  the  fraudulent  bankrupt,  and  a 
public  opinion  which  is  lax  and  indulgent  in  dealing 


236  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  n. 

with  one  form  of  dishonesty  will  soon  learn  to  look 
with  toleration  on  the  other.  The  same  type  of  cha- 
racter which  produces  the  unscrupulous  professional 
politician  produces  also  the  too  familiar  fraudulent 
director.  We  need  not  look  heyond  the  Atlantic  for 
examples. 

There  is  hardly  any  field,  indeed,  in  which  moral 
notions  are  more  confused  and  inconsistent  than  in 
politics.  Let  any  one,  for  example,  read  the  report  of 
the  judgment  of  the  Parnell  Commission,  and  the 
sworn  testimony  on  which  it  was  based,  and  let  him 
then  remember  that  the  men  who  were  distinctly 
proved  to  have  organised,  encouraged,  stimulated,  and 
profited  by  all  the  violence,  fraud,  intimidation,  and 
crime  that  is  there  recorded  received  the  support  of  the 
great  body  of  the  Catholic  priests  in  Ireland,  and  of 
the  great  body  of  Nonconformist  ministers  in  England. 
There  were,  it  is  true,  noble  exceptions.  The  names 
that  had  most  weight  in  the  Nonconformity  of  our 
time — the  names  of  Spurgeon,  and  Fraser,  and  Allon, 
and  Dale — stand  in  this  respect  beyond  reproach.  But 
the  majority  of  the  English  and  Welsh  Nonconform- 
ists took  a  different  course,  and  their  ministers  have 
in  the  present  generation  been  ardent  politicians, 
prominent  on  the  platform,  and  not  unfrequently  in- 
troducing their  politics  into  the  pulpit.  They  were, 
apparently,  entirely  unmoved  by  the  judicial  inquiry 
which  proved  beyond  all  possibility  of  doubt  the  com- 
plicity of  the  men  they  supported  with  crime.  The 
boycotting,  the  Plan  of  Campaign,  the  incendiary 
speeches,  the  open  advocacy  of  public  plunder,  the 
connection  with  American  dynamiters,  the  concealed 
accounts,  the  many  instances  of  hideous  cruelty  and 
oppression  of  the  weak  that  were  distinctly  traceable  to 
the  Irish  Land  League,  all  left  these  religious  teachers 


CH.  n.  POLITICAL  MORALITY  237 

completely  undisturbed.  These  things  were  regarded 
as  merely  'political.'  At  last,  however,  it  was  shown 
that  the  prime  mover  of  the  Irish  agitation  had  been 
guilty  of  adultery.  It  was  a  very  ordinary  case,  with- 
out much  special  aggravation,  and  such  as  might  be 
found  in  almost  every  newspaper.  Then,  for  the  first 
time,  the  Nonconformist  conscience  was  aroused.  It 
was  intolerable  that  a  truly  religious  party  should  be 
in  alliance  with  a  politician  guilty  of  such  an  act ;  and 
the  explosion  of  moral  indignation,  which  began  in  the 
Nonconformist  ranks,  soon  shook  the  land,  and  de- 
tached by  successive  impacts  the  Prime  Minister,  the 
Irish  bishops,  and  most  of  the  Irish  members  from 
their  old  connection.  Can  those  who  witnessed  this 
grotesque  exhibition  wonder  at  the  charge  of  Pharisaism 
and  hypocrisy  which  foreign  observers  so  abundantly 
bring  against  English  public  opinion  ?  Can  they  be 
surprised  that  'the  Nonconformist  conscience'  is  ra- 
pidly becoming  a  byword  in  England,  much  like  the 
'  moral  sentiments '  of  Joseph  Surface  ? 

My  readers  will  not,  I  hope,  so  far  misunderstand 
these  remarks  as  to  attribute  to  me  any  indifference  to 
the  private  morals  of  public  men.  The  example  of  men 
who  hold  a  high  and  responsible  position  before  the 
world  exercises  a  more  than  common  influence,  and  it 
is  therefore  specially  desirable  that  they  should  be  men 
of  untarnished  honour  and  blameless  lives.  There 
have  been  instances  of  men  of  very  lax  domestic  morals 
who  have  been  excellent  politicians,  and  of  men  of 
exemplary  private  characters  who  have  in  Parliament 
been  unprincipled  and  corrupt ;  but  still  private  virtue 
is  at  least  some  guarantee  for  the  right  performance  of 
public  duty ;  while  a  man  who  has  lost  his  position  in 
the  world  through  a  great  moral  scandal  would  be  al- 
most more  than  human  if  he  did  not  subordinate  all 


238  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  n. 

political  convictions  and  public  interests  to  regaining 
it.  But,  after  all,  it  is  not  the  private  vices  of  public 
men  that  are  most  dangerous  to  the  community.  It 
may  be  a  curious  question  of  casuistry  whether  it  is  a 
more  immoral  thing  to  commit  adultery,  or  to  incite  to 
intimidation  which  leads  to  crime  and  outrage,  persist- 
ing in  it  'with  knowledge  of  its  effect.^  ^  There  can, 
at  least,  be  no  doubt  which  of  these  two  acts  is  more 
injurious  to  the  State. 

The  maintenance  of  a  high  standard  of  right  and 
wrong  in  the  field  of  politics  is  certainly  one  of  the  first 
of  national  interests,  and  it  becomes  increasingly  diffi- 
cult with  the  democratic  tendency  to  throw  public 
affairs  more  and  more  into  the  hands  of  professional 
politicians.  To  other  classes  the  House  of  Commons 
has  lost  much  of  its  old  attraction.  The  extraordinary 
prolongation  of  its  sessions ;  the  growth  of  mere  ob- 
struction in  its  debates ;  the  increased  prominence  of 
parliamentary  manoeuvre,  requiring  a  more  incessant 
attendance ;  the  vast  amount  of  stump  oratory,  and 
other  wearisome  work,  which  is  now  expected  both 
from  a  candidate  and  a  member,  are  making  public  life 
far  more  burdensome  than  in  the  past,  and  are  gradu- 
ally alienating  from  it  men  who  have  no  strong  per- 
sonal object  to  gain.  The  influences  that  have  begun 
to  dominate  at  elections  neither  attract  nor  favour  the 
best  men.  Such  men  will  not  readily  consent  to  be 
mere  delegates  or  puppets  of  a  caucus,  and  they  are  not 
likely  to  be  skilful  in  conciliating  by  vague  promises 
groups  of  impracticable  theorists,  and  in  employing 
the  language  of  class  bribery. 

The  withdrawal  of  nearly  all  forms  of  local  govern- 
ment from  magistrates  and  from  nominated  bodies,  and 


'  Special  Commission  Report^  pp.  88,  92. 


CH.  II.  ELECTIVE  LOCAL  GOVERNMENT  239 

the  great  multiplicity  of  elected  and  democratic  bodies, 
tend  in  the  same  direction.  In  the  cases — happily, 
in  the  present  century,  very  rare  in  England — in  which 
public  funds  were  corruptly  administered  for  the 
benefit  of  the  few,  the  introduction  of  the  elective  sys- 
tem on  a  broad  basis  may  be  a  valuable  corrective, 
though  no  one  would  maintain  that  local  administra- 
tion is,  on  the  whole,  purer  in  America  than  it  has 
long  been  in  England.  It  is  contended,  however,  with 
justice,  in  favour  of  the  elective  system  that  it  forms 
one  of  the  best  schools  or  training-grounds  for  the 
politician  ;  that  it  gives  an  intelligent  interest  in  pub- 
lic affairs  to  multitudes  who  had  long  been  very  indif- 
ferent to  them ;  that  it  furnishes  a  security  that  the 
wants  of  all  classes  should  be  brought  to  light,  and  at 
least  discussed  ;  and  that  it  infuses  a  new  strength  and 
energy  into  local  administration. 

All  this  is,  I  believe,  very  true,  and  very  important. 
At  the  same  time  there  are  manifest  and  serious  draw- 
backs. One  of  them  is  increased  expense,  which  near- 
ly always  follows  when  a  nominated  or  magisterial 
body  is  replaced  by  a  democratic  elected  one  ;  another 
is  a  great  multiplication  of  antagonisms  and  dissensions. 
In  many  quiet  country  parishes,  where  Churchmen 
and  Dissenters,  Liberals  and  Conservatives,  long  lived 
in  almost  perfect  amity,  social  fissures  are  now  deepen- 
ing, and  constantly  recurring  elections  are  keeping  up 
a  permanent  fever  of  contention.  The  elections  for 
the  school  board,  for  the  county  council,  for  the  parish 
council,  the  parliamentary  elections,  which  now  imply 
constant  party  meetings  extending  through  the  greater 
part  of  the  session,  are  ranging  the  different  parties 
more  and  more  in  hostile  committees  and  opposing 
platforms,  and  whatever  good  may  result  is  certainly 
produced  by  a  great  deal  of  ill-feeling  and  discomfort. 


240  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  n. 

Nothing,  too,  as  we  have  already  seen,  is  more  clearly- 
established  by  American  experience  than  that  very 
frequent  contested  elections  tend  to  lower  the  moral 
tone  of  politics,  and  to  throw  them  more  and  more 
into  the  hands  of  the  professional  politician. 

It  would,  I  believe,  be  a  mistake  to  suppose  that 
under  the  new  conditions  wealth  will  disappear,  or 
even  exercise  a  greatly  diminished  power  in  politics, 
but  the  rich  men  who  will  chiefly  enter  Parliament  are 
not  the  kind  who  are  most  desirable.  Three  classes 
appear  to  have  an  increasing  prominence.  There  are 
those  who,  having  amassed  large  fortunes  in  trade, 
commerce,  or  manufacture,  desire  above  all  things 
social  position,  and  are  prepared  to  sacrifice  large  sums 
to  attain  it.  The  social  precedence  which  a  seat  in 
Parliament  affords,  and  the  possibilities  of  rank  which 
are  open  to  every  rich  man  who  steadily  supports  his 
party,  become  their  guiding  motives,  and  very  often 
shape  the  whole  course  of  their  political  calculations. 
There  are  also  prosperous  lawyers  who  enter  Parlia- 
ment for  professional  objects,  knowing  that  it  is  the 
path  which  leads  directly  to  the  chief  honours  in  their 
profession  ;  and  there  is  the  large  class  of  business  men 
connected  with  public  companies,  who  find  a  political 
position  useful  to  their  financial  enterprises.  The  in- 
creasing number  of  directors  in  Parliament,  and  the 
desire  of  companies  to  have  members  of  Parliament  for 
their  directors,  are  significant  signs,  not,  I  think,  of 
good  omen  for  the  purity  of  politics.  As  State  func- 
tions multiply,  including  many  things  that  were  once 
left  to  private  commercial  enterprise,  the  position  of 
member  of  Parliament  is  likely  to  have  an  increasing 
value  in  the  fields  of  patronage,  industry,  and  finance. 
Men  of  these  different  classes  are  often  among  the  most 
dangerous  of  demagogues.     Private  aims  predominate 


CH.  n.  DEMOCRATIC  TENDENCIES  241 

with  them  over  public  ones.  If  they  can  attain  them, 
they  care  little  for  a  large  expenditure  or  sacrifice  of 
money,  and  their  special  interests  are  usually  only 
very  slightly  identified  with  the  permanent  interests  of 
the  country. 

Two  or  three  measures  which  are  much  advocated 
would  confirm  the  power  of  the  professional  politician. 
I  have  already  spoken  of  the  abolition  of  university 
representation.  It  is  not  a  measure  which  would  have 
very  extensive  consequences,  but  it  would  at  least  expel 
from  Parliament  a  small  class  of  members  who  repre- 
sent in  an  eminent  degree  intelligence  and  knowledge 
diffused  throughout  the  country  ;  who,  from  the  man- 
ner of  their  election,  are  almost  certain  to  be  men  of 
political  purity  and  independent  character,  and  who, 
for  that  very  reason,  are  especially  obnoxious  to  the 
more  unscrupulous  type  of  demagogue.  Their  expul- 
sion would  be  a  considerable  party  advantage  to  one 
faction  in  the  State,  and  it  is  therefore  likely  to  be 
steadily  pursued. 

A  more  considerable  measure  would  be  that  of  throw- 
ing the  whole  or  a  large  part  of  the  expenses  of  elec- 
tions on  the  rates.  There  is  much  to  be  said  in  its 
defence.  It  is  not  a  natural  thing  that  men  should  be 
expected  to  pay  largely  for  discharging  what  should  be 
a  public  duty,  for  rendering  what  should  be  a  public 
service.  Payment  from  the  rates  would  render  it  much 
easier  for  men  of  moderate  fortunes  to  enter  the  House, 
and  it  would  very  possibly  diminish  the  appetite  for 
place,  or  for  the  less  legitimate  forms  of  gain,  which 
are  often  sought  merely  for  the  purpose  of  recovering 
an  expenditure  already  made.  Men  who  have  paid 
much  for  a  position  easily  persuade  themselves  that  it 
is  legitimate  to  make  profit  out  of  it,  and  to  regard 
their  expenditure  as  an  investment.     But,  unless  pay- 

VOL.  L  16 


242  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  it 

ment  from  public  sources  were  restricted  to  candidates 
who  obtained  a  considerable  amount  of  support  at  the 
poll,  it  would  multiply  useless  and  mischievous  con- 
tests, and,  like  the  payment  of  members,  which  would 
probably  follow  it,  besides  adding  largely  to  the  cost 
of  government,  it  would  greatly  smooth  the  path  of  the 
professional  agitator  or  wirepuller. 

The  reader  Avill,  I  hope,  understand  that  in  the  fore- 
going remarks  I  am  describing  tendencies  which  appear 
to  me  to  be  in  operation  and  not  fully  accomplished 
facts.  It  would  take  a  long  time,  and  many  disastrous 
revolutions,  to  break  down  the  firm  texture  of  English 
political  life.  The  old  feelings  of  traditional  reve- 
rence ;  the  long-established  organisations  of  property 
and  class  and  corporate  existence  ;  the  shrewdness  and 
sobriety  of  judgment,  and,  above  all,  the  sound  moral 
feeling  which  a  long  and  noble  history  has  implanted  in 
all  classes  of  the  British  people,  have  not  disappeared, 
though  power  is  passing  mainly  into  the  hands  of  the 
most  uninstructed,  and  therefore  least  intelligent, 
classes,  and  though  low  motives  are  in  consequence 
acquiring  a  greater  prominence  in  English  politics. 
Still,  there  have  been  encouraging  signs  that  a  politi- 
cian who  is  ready  to  sacrifice  his  character  in  order 
to  win  power  or  popularity  may  make  the  sacrifice 
without  obtaining  the  reward.  Manufactured  and  or- 
ganised agitations ;  ingenious  combinations  of  hetero- 
geneous elements;  skilful  attempts  to  win  votes  by 
distributing  class  bribes  or  inflaming  class  or  national 
animosities,  have  not  always  proved  successful.  The 
deliberate  judgment  of  the  constituencies  on  a  great 
question  which  strongly  arouses  national  feeling  will, 
I  believe,  seldom  be  wrong,  though  there  is  an  in- 
creased danger  that  they  may  be  for  a  time  misled, 
and   that  such  influences  as    I   have   described  may 


en.  II.  COMPETITIVE  EXAMINATIONS  243 

obtain  a  temporary  ascendency  in  the  House  of  Com- 
mons. 

The  high  standard,  both  of  professional  honour  and 
of  competence,  that  has  long  prevailed  in  our  perma- 
nent services  is  certainly  unimpaired,  and,  in  days 
when  parliamentary  government  is  in  its  decadence, 
the  importance  to  national  wellbeing  of  a  good  perma- 
nent service  can  hardly  be  overrated.  Parliament  it- 
self, though  it  shows  many  evil  signs,  has  escaped  some 
which  may  be  detected  in  other  legislatures.  It  would 
be  diflficult  to  exaggerate  the  value  of  the  standing 
order  which  provides  that  the  House  of  Commons  shall 
make  no  money  grant  except  at  the  initiative  of  the 
responsible  Ministers  of  the  Crown.  Probably  no  other 
provision  has  done  so  much  to  check  extravagance  and 
to  place  a  bound  to  that  bribery  by  legislation  which  is 
one  of  the  distinctive  dangers  of  democracy ;  and  the 
absence  of  such  a  rule  has  been  justly  described  as  one 
of  the  great  sources  of  the  corruption  and  extravagance 
of  French  finance.  The  Committee  system  also,  which 
seems  likely  to  become  in  England,  as  it  has  already 
become  in  America,  the  most  important  thing  in  parlia- 
mentary government,  is  still  essentially  sound.  The 
House  of  Commons  as  a  whole  is  becoming  so  unfit  for 
the  transaction  of  the  details  of  business  that  it  will 
probably  more  and  more  delegate  its  functions  to  Com- 
mittees ;  and  these  Committees  submit  great  questions 
to  a  thorough  examination,  bring  together  the  most 
competent  practical  Judges  and  the  best  available  infor- 
mation, weaken  the  force  of  party,  and  infuse  into 
legislation  something,  at  least,  of  a  judicial  spirit. 

I  have  already  alluded  to  tlie  great  political  value  of 
the  competitive  system  of  examination  as  applied  to 
the  public  services.  It  has  undoubtedly  many  and 
grievous  drawbacks,  and  few  good  judges  will  deny 


344  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  il 

that  examinations  have  been  overdone  in  England,  and 
that  in  these  examinations  mere  book  knowledge  has 
been  too  prominent.  Sometimes,  indeed,  there  has 
been  an  almost  grotesque  dissimilarity  between  the 
character  of  the  examination  and  the  career  to  which 
it  leads  ;  as,  for  example,  when  questions  about  Spen- 
ser's '  Faerie  Queene,'  or  about  English  parliamentary- 
history,  or  about  classical  literature,  are  said  to  have 
turned  the  scale  for  or  against  a  candidate  in  an 
army  examination.  Many  of  the  qualities  that  are 
most  useful  in  the  administration  of  affairs  and  the 
management  of  men  can  be  neither  given  nor  tested  by 
examination.  Tact,  knowledge  of  men,  sound  judg- 
ment, promptitude  and  resolution  in  times  of  danger, 
and  that  charm  of  manner  which  adds  so  much,  espe- 
cially in  Eastern  nations,  to  the  success  of  administra- 
tions, lie  wholly  beyond  the  range  of  the  examination 
hall.  There  are  positions  in  life  in  which  the  wild,  idle, 
high-spirited  boy,  whose  natural  bent  is  all  to  sport 
and  to  adventure,  but  who  is  utterly  without  the  turn 
of  mind  or  character  that  triumphs  in  examinations,  is 
more  likely  to  succeed  than  the  plodding,  industrious 
boy  who  will  win  the  prize.  The  competitive  system 
is  in  theory  a  very  democratical  one,  but,  like  many 
democratic  measures,  it  does  not  altogether  fulfil  its 
promise.  It  is  a  system  which  gives  a  wholly  dispro- 
portionate share  of  the  world's  goods  to  a  small  minori- 
ty who  are  endowed  with  a  particular  kind  of  capacity. 
It  is  a  system  also  in  which  money  plays  a  great  part, 
for  it  has  become  all  but  impossible  for  boys  to  succeed 
in  the  most  keenly  contested  examinations  unless  they 
have  had  the  advantage  of  special  and  expensive  teach- 
ing. It  is  curious  to  observe  how  often,  under  the  old 
aristocratic  system  of  patronage,  a  poor  man  gained  a 
place  on  the  ladder  of  promotion  which  he  could  not 


CH.  11.  COMPETITIVE  EXAMINATIONS  245 

have  reached  under  the  present  system.  An  officer 
who,  like  so  many  of  his  profession,  found  himself 
towards  the  close  of  a  useful  and  honourable  life  with 
only  a  very  humble  competence,  could,  under  the  old 
system,  always  obtain  for  his  son  a  commission  with- 
out purchase  in  the  army.  His  son  must  now  enter  by 
an  examination,  and  he  will  hardly  succeed  unless  the 
father  is  able  to  give  him  the  advantage  of  an  experi- 
enced crammer. 

In  India  the  competitive  system  may  prove  a  serious 
danger.  In  that  country  the  nimbleness  of  mind  and 
tongue  which  succeeds  in  examinations  is,  to  a  degree 
quite  unknown  in  Europe,  separated  from  martial 
courage,  and  from  the  strength  of  nerve  and  character 
that  wins  the  respect  of  great  masses,  and  marks  out 
the  rulers  of  men.  In  the  opinion  of  the  best  judges, 
a  system  which  would  bring  to  the  forefront  the  weak, 
effeminate  Bengalese,  to  the  detriment  of  the  old  go- 
verning races  of  India  and  of  the  strong,  warlike  popu- 
lations of  the  North,  would  be  the  sure  precursor  of  a 
catastrophe. 

But,  with  all  its  drawbacks,  the  competitive  system 
has  been,  I  think,  in  England  a  great  blessing,  and  the 
disadvantages  that  attend  it  have  been  mitigated  By 
more  intelligent  kinds  of  examination  and  by  a  judi- 
cious mixture  of  patronage  and  competition,  which 
gives  some  power  of  selection  to  men  in  responsible 
positions.  The  competitive  system  realises,  on  the 
whole,  more  perfectly  than  any  other  that  has  been  yet 
devised  the  ideal  of  the  Revolution  :  '  La  carrier e 
ouverte  aux  talents.'  If  patronage  were  always  exercised 
with  perfect  wisdom  and  public  spirit,  it  would,  no 
doubt,  bring  forward  better  men,  but  there  is  no  real 
reason  to  believe  that  the  class  who,  in  Great  Britain, 
a^e  produced  by  the  competitive  system  are,  on  the 


246  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  ii. 

whole,  at  all  inferior  to  their  predecessors.  At  the 
same  time,  its  value  in  keeping  the  public  services 
pure  from  corruption  can  hardly  be  overstated.  It  is 
the  one  real  protection  against  the  complete  dominance 
of  the  '  spoils  system,^  and  it  is  a  protection  which  is 
likely  to  last.  In  a  democratic  age  it  is  very  difficult 
to  correct  democratic  evils  except  by  democratic  reme- 
dies. It  would  be  impossible  to  measure  the  corrup- 
tion which  would  ensue  if  all  the  powers  of  patronage 
and  nomination  that  were  once  in  the  hands  of  govern- 
ments and  aristocracies  were  placed  in  the  hands  of 
popular  bodies,  to  be  scrambled  for  by  professional 
politicians  or  used  as  bribes  by  contending  factions. 

It  is  a  truth  which  is  not  sufficiently  recognised,  that 
the  general  character  of  a  nation  cannot  always  be  fairly 
judged  by  the  character  of  its  public  men  or  of  its  politi- 
cal actions.  In  a  really  sound  representative  system 
this  remark  would  not  apply.  One  of  the  truest  tests 
of  a  good  constitution  is,  that  it  brings  into  habitual 
political  action  the  best  characteristics  of  the  nation. 
But  in  the  extremes  both  of  despotism  and  of  democracy 
political  action  is  often  a  strangely  deceptive  guide  to 
national  character.  Governments  sometimes  pursue  a 
constantly  aggressive,  military,  and  violent  policy,  sim- 
ply because  power  is  in  the  hands  of  a  small  class,  and 
because  the  bulk  of  the  nation  are  so  mild,  peaceful, 
and  loyal  that  they  can  be  easily  led.  In  democracies, 
as  America  has  abundantly  shown,  politics  may  be  an 
equally  faithless  mirror  of  the  best  side  of  the  national 
character.  The  politics  of  a  nation  and  the  character 
of  its  public  men  may  deteriorate,  not  because  the 
aggregate  intelligence  or  virtue  of  the  nation  has  di- 
minished, but  simply  because  the  governing  power  has 
descended  to  classes  who  are  less  intelligent,  less  scru- 
pulous, or  more  easily  deceived. 


CH.  II.      POLITICS  AND  NATIONAL  CHARACTER  247 

If  it  be  true — as  there  seems  great  reason  to  be- 
lieve— that  parliamentary  government  in  England  has 
entered  on  its  period  of  decadence,  it  becomes  a  ques- 
tion of  the  highest  importance  to  ascertain  whether 
this  implies  a  general  decadence  in  the  national  cha- 
racter. I  do  not  myself  believe  it.  It  appears  to  me 
hardly  possible  to  compare  the  present  generation  of 
Englishmen  with  the  generation  of  our  grandfathers 
and  great-grandfathers  without  believing  that,  on  the 
whole,  English  character  has  improved.  The  statistics 
of  crime  are,  no  doubt,  in  this  respect  an  imperfect  test, 
for  the  criminal  class  always  forms  only  a  small  section 
of  the  community,  and  an  increase  or  diminution  of 
actual  criminal  offences  often  depends  upon  circum- 
stances that  are  only  very  slightly  connected  with  the 
average  morals  of  the  community.  As  far,  however, 
as  this  test  goes,  it  is  eminently  satisfactory,  for  there 
can  be  no  doubt  that  most  forms  of  grave  crime,  in 
proportion  to  population,  have,  in  the  present  genera- 
tion, greatly  diminished.  Nor  is  this  surprising,  for 
no  feature  of  our  century  is  more  remarkable  than  the 
skill  with  which,  by  reformatories  and  industrial  and 
other  schools,  by  factory  laws,  by  the  diminution  of  in- 
sanitary dwellings,  and  by  the  better  regulation  of  the 
drink  traffic,  modern  philanthropy  has  succeeded  in 
restricting  or  purifying  the  chief  sources  of  national 
crime.  As  a  single  illustration  of  the  change  that  has 
taken  place,  I  may  mention  that  in  1834  it  was  officially 
stated  in  Parliament  that  not  less  than  one-fifth  of  the 
army  stationed  in  England  had,  in  the  two  preceding 
years,  passed  through  the  common  gaols. ^  The  great 
diminution  of  ordinary  crime  in  England  is  especially 
remarkable,  because  both  in  France  and  in  the  United 


'  Ha/nsard^  xxv.  281. 


248  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  ii. 

States  there  has  been,  in  the  present  generation,  a  great 
and  a  deplorable  increase. 

Not  less  conspicuous  is  the  improvement  that  has 
taken  place  in  the  decorum,  civilisation,  and  humanity 
of  the  bulk  of  the  poor  ;  in  the  character  of  their  tastes 
and  pleasures  ;  in  their  enlarged  circle  of  interests  ;  in 
the  spirit  of  providence  which,  under  the  influence  of 
savings  banks  and  kindred  institutions,  has  arisen 
among  them.  The  skilled  artisans  in  our  great  towns, 
within  the  memory  of  living  men,  have  become,  not 
only  the  most  energetic,  but  also  one  of  the  most  intel- 
ligent and  orderly  elements,  in  English  life.  No  one 
who  has  come  into  close  contact  with  their  political 
organisations,  or  trade  unions,  or  mechanics'  institutes, 
or  free  libraries,  or  who  has  watched  the  working-class 
audience  of  some  great  scientific  lecturer,  will  deem 
this  an  exaggeration.  The  spirit  of  humanity  has  im- 
mensely increased,  both  in  the  form  that  shrinks  from 
the  infliction  of  suffering  and  in  the  form  that  seeks 
out  suffering  in  order  to  alleviate  it.  Churches  and 
creeds  will  come  and  go  ;  but  the  best  index  of  the 
moral  level  of  a  community  is  to  be  found  iu  the 
amount  of  unselfish  action  that  is  generated  within  it. 
I  do  not  believe  that  there  has  ever  been  a  period  in 
England,  or  in  any  other  country,  when  more  time, 
thought,  money,  and  labour  were  bestowed  on  the  alle- 
viation of  suffering,  or  in  which  a  larger  number  of 
men  and  women  of  all  classes  threw  themselves  more 
earnestly  and  more  habitually  into  unselfish  causes. 
Both  within  and  without  the  Church  the  passion  for 
social  reform  and  philanthropic  action  has,  to  a  large 
extent,  displaced  theological  enthusiasm ;  but,  at  the 
same  time,  the  increased  activity  of  the  Established 
Church  is  very  apparent,  the  standard  of  duty  among 
its  clergy  is  appreciably  raised,  and  its  patronage  is  ad- 


CH.  n.  SIGNS  OF  IMPROVEMENT  249 

ministered  in  a  far  better  and  purer  spirit  than  in  the 
past. 

All  this  is,  no  doubt,  compatible  with  the  growth  of 
some  special  forms  of  vice.  It  may  perhaps  be  com- 
patible with  a  decline  of  those  stronger  and  more  ro- 
bust qualities  that  chiefly  lead  to  political  greatness. 
Whether  in  this  last  field  there  has  been  any  decadence 
in  England  is  a  question  on  which  it  is  difficult  to  pro- 
nounce. The  last  occasion  in  which  England  was  en- 
gaged in  a  life-and-death  struggle  against  overwhelming 
odds  was  in  the  Indian  Mutiny  ;  and,  in  that  now  dis- 
tant crisis,  it  must  be  owned  that  there  was  no  failing 
in  the  stronger,  fiercer,  and  more  tenacious  qualities 
that  have  made  England  what  she  is.  Amid  all  the 
much-obtruded  sentimentalisms  of  our  time  there  are 
indications  that  the  fibre  of  the  race  is  still  unimpaired. 
The  old  love  of  manly  sports  was  never  more  abun- 
dantly displayed ;  in  the  great  fields  of  adventure  and 
discovery,  in  the  forms  of  commercial  and  industrial 
enterprise  that  most  tax  the  energies  and  resources  of 
men,  modern  Englishmen  bear  their  full  part,  and  no 
other  people  are  doing  so  much  to  explore,  subdue, 
and  civilise  far-distant  and  savage  lands. 

Have  their  governing  qualities  declined  ?  Have  the 
Englishmen  of  our  day  learnt  to  prefer  words  to  things 
and  plausibilities  to  facts,  and  men  who  are  cunning 
in  the  arts  of  parliamentary  fence  and  political  ma- 
noeuvre to  men  of  wise  judgment  and  solid  character  ? 
Carlyle  believed  that  they  had,  and  there  have  been 
symptoms  in  these  later  days  that  support  his  opi- 
nion. I  believe,  however,  that  they  will  nearly  all 
be  found  in  close  connection  with  the  influence  of  a 
democratic  Parliament.  When  Englishmen  escape 
from  its  interference  and  its  contagion,  their  old  high 
governing  qualities  seldom  fail  to  shine.     No  piece  ol 


250  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  ii. 

more  skilful,  successful,  and  beneficent  administration 
has  been  accomplished  in  our  day,  under  circumstances 
of  great  difficulty,  than  the  English  administration  of 
Egypt,  and  no  achievement  of  secular  government 
since  the  Roman  Empire  can  compare  in  its  magnitude 
and  splendour  with  the  British  Empire  in  India.  The 
men  who  built  up  that  gigantic  empire,  who  have 
maintained  for  so  many  generations  and  over  so  vast 
an  area  peace  and  prosperity  and  order,  who  have  put 
a  stop  to  so  many  savage  wars  and  eradicated  so  many 
cruel  customs,  are  the  statesmen  of  whom  England 
should  be  most  proud.  There  is  no  sign  that  they 
have  lost  their  cunning  ;  and  if  such  men  and  such 
modes  of  government  could  have  been  employed  nearer 
home,  many  old  injustices  and  discontents  would  have 
long  since  passed  away. 

He  would  be  a  sanguine  man  who  ventured  to  pre- 
dict with  confidence  the  long  duration  of  this  supreme 
monument  of  the  genius  and  the  character  of  our  race  ; 
but  most  good  judges  will  agree  that  the  great  danger 
that  menaces  it  is  to  be  found  neither  at  Calcutta 
nor  at  St.  Petersburg,  but  at  Westminster.  It  is 
to  be  found  in  combinations  of  fanaticism  with  in- 
trigue that  are  peculiarly  dangerous  in  a  country  ruled 
by  feeble  governments,  and  disintegrated  parliaments, 
and  ignorant  constituencies  ;  it  is  to  be  found  in  the 
introduction  into  India  of  modes  and  maxims  of 
government  borrowed  from  modern  European  demo- 
cracies, and  utterly  unsuited  to  an  Oriental  people  ;  it 
is  to  be  found  in  acts  of  injustice  perpetrated  by 
Parliament  in  obedience  to  party  motives  and  to  the 
pressure  of  local  interests.  Two  shameful  instances  of 
this  kind  are  very  recent.  The  Commission  sent  out 
to  India  to  inquire  into  the  opium  traffic  in  1893  was 
wholly  due  to  the  action  in  the  House  of  Commons  of 


CH.  II.  INDIAN  GOVERNMENT  261 

a  little  knot  of  fanatics  and  agitators  in  England,  un- 
prompted by  any  voice  in  India,  and  carried  contrary 
to  the  whole  force  of  experienced  Indian  opinion. 
Yet  it  was  at  first  determined  that  a  great  part  of  its 
cost  should  be  thrown  on  the  Indian  taxpayer.  Still 
graver  in  its  probable  effects  Avas  the  policy  which  for- 
bade India,  in  a  time  of  deep  financial  distress,  to  raise 
a  revenue  by  import  duties  on  English  cotton,  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  almost  unanimous  desire  of  her  ad- 
ministrators and  her  educated  public  opinion.  No 
one  ever  doubted  that,  if  India  possessed  representa- 
tive institutions,  or  if  the  opinions  of  English  adminis- 
trators in  India  or  of  Indian  administrators  at  home 
had  been  taken,  such  duties  Avould  have  been  imposed. 
But  votes  might  have  been  lost,  an  agitation  might 
have  been  raised  in  England,  and  both  parties  feared 
to  run  the  risk. 

Fortunately,  in  these  two  cases  the  false  steps  that 
had  been  taken  did  not  prove  irrevocable.  The  Minis- 
ter for  India  (Sir  Henry  Fowler),  to  his  infinite  credit, 
had  the  courage  to  insist  at  all  hazards  upon  revising 
them,  and  he  found  sufficient  patriotism  in  the  Op- 
position to  enable  him  to  secure  the  support  of  a  large 
majority  in  the  House  of  Commons.  Seldom  indeed 
in  recent  years  has  the  chord  of  genuine  public  spirit 
in  that  House  been  so  powerfully  and  so  successfully 
struck.  But  the  original  faults  were  very  grave,  and 
they  illustrate  the  dangers  to  which  democratic  parlia- 
mentary government  with  a  weak  executive  exposes 
the  great  interests  of  the  Empire. 

The  blame  must  be  divided  between  both  parties. 
In  both  parties  the  minister  representing  India  has,  I 
believe,  usually  done  his  best,  short  of  resigning  his 
office  ;  but  when  a  small  group  of  voters  may  turn 
the  balance,  the  great  interests  of  India  are  but  too 


252  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  ii. 

likely  to  be  sacrificed  to  the  party  game.  It  is  often 
said  that  England  holds  India  by  the  sword  ;  but  this, 
though  largely,  is  not  wholly  true.  If  the  belief  of 
the  great  masses  of  the  Indian  people  in  the  essential 
integrity  and  beneficence  of  English  rule  is  ever 
shaken,  one  of  the  chief  pillars  of  our  power  will  have 
been  destroyed. 

Our  Indian  experience,  however,  at  least  shows  that 
the  governing  qualities  of  the  race  remain  ;  and  the 
same  truth  is  taught  by  the  admirable  corporate  govern- 
ment which  has  grown  up  in  our  great  towns.  It  is 
very  doubtful  whether  the  spirit  of  municipal  and  local 
patriotism  was  more  strongly  developed  either  in  an- 
cient Greece,  or,  during  the  Middle  Ages,  in  the  great 
towns  of  Italy  and  Flanders  or  along  the  Baltic,  than 
it  now  is  in  Birmingham,  or  Liverpool,  or  Manchester. 
The  self-governing  qualities  that  are  displayed  in  these 
great  centres,  the  munificence  and  patriotism  with 
which  their  public  institutions  are  supported,  the 
strong  stream  of  distinctive  political  tendency  that 
emanates  from  them,  are  among  the  most  remarkable 
and  most  consolatory  facts  of  English  life.  In  France, 
the  ascendency  of  Paris  has  almost  atrophied  political 
life  in  the  provincial  towns,  and  the  capital  has  again 
and  again  shown  itself  sujfiiciently  powerful  to  re- 
verse the  decision  of  the  country.  In  America,  the 
corruption  of  municipal  government  in  nearly  all  the 
more  important  cities  is  the  worst  side  of  the  national 
life.  England  has  hitherto  escaped  both  of  these 
evils,  and  the  political  weight  of  the  chief  provincial 
towns  is  unquestionable.  The  Manchester  school  of 
the  last  generation,  and  the  Birmingham  school  of  the 
present  generation,  have  been  among  the  most  power- 
ful influences  in  modern  politics. 

The  growth  of  an  independent  provincial  spirit  haa 


CH.  II.  INFLUENCE  OF  THE  TELEGRAPH  253 

been  much  accelerated  by  the  telegraph.  The  politi- 
cal influence  of  this  great  invention,  though  various 
and  chequered,  has  been  scarcely  less  powerful  than 
that  of  the  railway.  It  has  brought  the  distant  de- 
pendencies of  the  Empire  into  far  closer  connection 
with  the  mother  country  ;  but  it  is  very  doubtful 
whether  the  power  it  has  given  to  the  home  ministers 
of  continually  meddling  with  the  details  of  their  ad- 
ministration is  a  good  thing,  and  there  have  been 
times  of  disagreement  when  a  rapid  communication  be- 
tween foreign  countries  might  have  led  rather  to  war 
than  to  peace.  Government  by  telegraph  is  a  very 
dangerous  thing  ;  and  it  has  been  often  said  that  if  an 
Atlantic  telegraph  had  connected  England  with  the 
United  States  in  the  first  excitement  of  the  'Trent* 
affair,  enabling  the  two  nations,  when  their  blood  was 
still  hot,  to  exchange  their  impressions,  a  war  could 
scarcely  have  been  averted.  The  telegraph,  on  the 
other  hand,  has  greatly  strengthened  the  Central 
Government  in  repressing  insurrections,  protecting 
property,  and  punishing  crime.  It  has  at  least  modi- 
fied the  Irish  difficulty,  by  bringing  Dublin  within  a 
few  minutes^  communication  of  London.  It  has  had 
enormous  economical  consequences,  equalising  prices, 
stimulating  speculation,  destroying  in  a  great  measure 
the  advantage  of  priority  of  time  which  the  inhabi- 
tants of  great  centres  naturally  had  in  many  competi- 
tions. 

The  effect,  however,  on  which  I  would  now  specially 
dwell  is  its  great  power  in  decentralising  politics. 
The  provincial  press,  no  doubt,  owes  much  to  the  re- 
peal of  the  stamp  duty  and  the  paper  duty  :  but  the 
immense  development  and  importance  it  has  assumed 
within  the  lifetime  of  men  who  are  still  of  middle  age 
are  mainly  due  to  the  existence  of  telegraphic  commu- 


254  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  u 

nication.  All  kinds  of  foreign  and  domestic  news, 
and  even  full  reports  of  debates  in  Parliament  that  are 
of  any  local  interest,  are  printed  in  an  Irish,  or  Scotch, 
or  Liverpool  paper  as  early  as  in  London.  The  local 
newspaper  is  thus  able,  in  its  own  district,  to  antici- 
pate the  news  of  the  London  papers,  and  in  conse- 
quence, over  large  areas  of  the  country  where  the 
metropolitan  press  once  exercised  an  enormous  influ- 
ence, a  London  newspaper  is  now  seldom  seen.  With 
its  increased  importance  and  circulation,  the  provincial 
press  can  command  far  more  talent  than  in  the  past, 
and  it  has  become  one  of  the  most  important  agencies, 
both  in  indicating  and  in  forming  national  opinion. 

I  do  not  know  that  it  was  ever  clearly  foreseen  that 
while  railways  were  doing  so  much  to  centralise,  the 
telegraph  would  do  so  much  to  decentralise,  multiply- 
ing in  England  powerful  and  independent  centres  of 
political  thought  and  education,  building  up  a  provin- 
cial press  which  often  fully  rivals  in  ability  that  of  the 
metropolis,  while,  within  its  own  spheres  of  influence, 
it  exercises  a  far  greater  ascendency.  This  has  been 
one  of  the  great  political  facts  of  our  time,  and,  on  the 
whole,  it  seems  to  me  to  have  been  a  beneficial  one. 
Kepresentative  institutions  will  probably  perish  by 
ceasing  to  be  representative,  genuine  opinion  being 
overlaid  and  -crushed  by  great  multitudes  of  ignorant 
voters  of  one  class.  In  our  day,  the  press  is  becoming 
far  more  than  the  House  of  Commons  the  representa- 
tive of  the  real  public  opinion  of  the  nation. 

Its  growth  is  but  one  of  the  many  signs  of  the  in- 
tense and  many-sided  intellectual  and  moral  energy 
that  pervades  the  country.  There  are  fields,  indeed, 
both  of  thought  and  action,  in  which  the  greatest  men 
of  our  generation  are  dwarfed  by  their  predecessors  ; 
but  if  we  measure  our  age  by  the  aggregate  of  its 


CH.  IL  ENGLAND  NOT  DECADENT  255 

vitality,  by  the  broad  sweep  of  its  energies  and  achieve- 
ments, the  England  of  our  century  can  hardly  fail  to 
rank  very  high.  In  art,  in  science,  in  literature,  in 
the  enlargement  of  the  bounds  of  knowledge,  in  the 
popularisation  of  acquired  knowledge,  in  inventions 
and  discoveries,  and  in  most  of  the  forms  of  enterprise 
and  philanthropy,  it  has  assuredly  done  much.  It 
has  produced  in  Darwin  a  man  who  has  effected  a 
greater  revolution  iii  the  opinions  of  mankind  than 
anyone,  at  least  since  Newton,  and  whose  name  is 
likely  to  live  with  honour  as  long  as  the  human  race 
moves  upon  the  planet ;  while  in  Gordon  it  has  pro- 
duced a  type  of  simple,  self-sacrificing,  religious  hero- 
ism which  is  in  its  own  kind  as  perfect  as  anything, 
even  in  the  legends  of  chivalry.  A  country  which  has 
produced  such  men  and  such  works  does  not  seem  to 
be  in  a  condition  of  general  decadence,  though  its  Con- 
stitution is  plainly  worn  out,  though  the  balance  of 
power  within  it  has  been  destroyed,  and  though  dis- 
eases of  a  serious  character  are  fast  growing  in  its  poli- 
tical life.  The  future  only  can  tell  whether  the  energy 
of  the  English  people  can  be  sufficiently  roused  to  check 
these  evils,  and  to  do  so  before  they  have  led  to  some 
great  catastrophe. 


256  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY 


CHAPTER  III 

I  DO  not  think  that  any  one  who  seriously  con- 
siders the  force  and  universality  of  the  movement  of 
our  generation  in  the  direction  of  democracy  can  doubt 
that  this  conception  of  government  will  necessarily,  at 
least  for  a  considerable  time,  dominate  in  all  civilised 
countries,  and  the  real  question  for  politicians  is  the 
form  it  is  likely  to  take,  and  the  means  by  which  its 
characteristic  evils  can  be  best  mitigated.  As  we  have, 
I  think,  abundantly  seen,  a  tendency  to  democracy 
does  not  mean  a  tendency  to  parliamentary  govern- 
ment, or  even  a  tendency  towards  greater  liberty.  On 
the  contrary,  strong  arguments  may  be  adduced,  both 
from  history  and  from  the  nature  of  things,  to  show 
that  democracy  may  often  prove  the  direct  opposite  of 
liberty.  In  ancient  Eome  the  old  aristocratic  republic 
was  gradually  transformed  into  a  democracy,  and  it 
then  passed  speedily  into  an  imperial  despotism.  In 
France  a  corresponding  change  has  more  than  once 
taken  place.  A  despotism  resting  on  a  plebiscite  is 
quite  as  natural  a  form  of  democracy  as  a  republic,  and 
some  of  the  strongest  democratic  tendencies  are  dis- 
tinctly adverse  to  liberty.  Equality  is  the  idol  of  de- 
mocracy, but,  with  the  infinitely  various  capacities  and 
energies  of  men,  this  can  only  be  attained  by  a  con- 
stant, systematic,  stringent  repression  of  their  natural 
development.  Whenever  natural  forces  have  unre- 
stricted play,  inequality  is  certain  to  ensue.  Demo- 
cracy destroys  the  balance  of  opinions,  interests,  and 


cu.  in.  DEMOCRACY  IS  NOT  LIBERTY  267 

classes,  on  which  constitutional  liberty  mainly  de- 
pends, and  its  constant  tendency  is  to  impair  the 
efficiency  and  authority  of  parliaments,  which  have 
hitherto  proved  the  chief  organs  of  political  liberty. 
In  the  Middle  Ages,  the  two  most  democratic  institu- 
tions were  the  Church  and  the  guild.  The  first  taught 
the  essential  spiritual  equality  of  mankind,  and  placed 
men  taken  from  the  servile  class  on  a  pedestal  before 
which  kings  and  nobles  were  compelled  to  bow  ;  but  it 
also  formed  the  most  tremendous  instrument  of  spi- 
ritual tyranny  the  world  has  ever  seen.  The  second 
organised  industry  on  a  self-governing  and  representa- 
tive basis,  but  at  the  same  time  restricted  and  regulated 
it  in  all  its  details  with  the  most  stringent  despotism. 

In  our  own  day,  no  fact  is  more  incontestable  and 
conspicuous  than  the  love  of  democracy  for  authorita- 
tive regulation.  The  two  things  that  men  in  middle 
age  have  seen  most  discredited  among  their  contempo- 
raries are  probably  free  contract  and  free  trade.  The 
great  majority  of  the  democracies  of  the  world  are  now 
frankly  protectionist,  and  even  in  free-trade  countries 
the  multiplication  of  laws  regulating,  restricting,  and 
interfering  with  industry  in  all  its  departments  is  one 
of  the  most  marked  characteristics  of  our  time.  Nor 
are  these  regulations  solely  due  to  sanitary  or  humani- 
tarian motives.  Among  large  classes  of  those  who 
advocate  them  another  motive  is  very  perceptible.  A 
school  has  arisen  among  popular  working-class  leaders 
which  no  longer  desires  that  superior  skill,  or  industry, 
or  providence  should  reap  extraordinary  rewards. 
Their  ideal  is  to  restrict  by  the  strongest  trade-union 
regulations  the  amount  of  work  and  the  amount  of  the 
produce  of  work,  to  introduce  the  principle  of  legal 
compulsion  into  every  branch  of  industry,  to  give  the 
trade  union  an  absolute  coercive  power  over  its  mem- 

VOL.  I.  17 


258  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  iii. 

bers,  to  attain  a  high  average,  but  to  permit  no  supe- 
riorities. The  industrial  organisation  to  which  they 
aspire  approaches  far  more  nearly  to  that  of  the  Middle 
Ages  or  of  the  Tudors  than  to  the  ideal  of  Jefferson 
and  Cobden.  I  do  not  here  argue  whether  this  ten- 
dency is  good  or  bad.  No  one  at  least  can  suppose  that 
it  is  in  the  direction  of  freedom.  It  may  be  permitted 
to  doubt  whether  liberty  in  other  forms  is  likely  to  be 
very  secure  if  power  is  mainly  placed  in  the  hands  of 
men  who,  in  their  own  sphere,  value  it  so  little. 

The  expansion  of  the  authority  and  the  multiplica- 
tion of  the  functions  of  the  State  in  other  fields,  and 
especially  in  the  field  of  social  regulation,  is  an  equally 
apparent  accompaniment  of  modern  democracy.  This 
increase  of  State  power  means  a  multiplication  of  re- 
strictions imposed  upon  the  various  forms  of  human 
action.  It  means  an  increase  of  bureaucracy,  or,  in 
other  words,  of  the  number  and  power  of  State  officials. 
It  means  also  a  constant  increase  of  taxation,  which  is 
in  reality  a  constant  restriction  of  liberty.  One  of  the 
first  forms  of  liberty  is  the  right  of  every  man  to  dis- 
pose of  his  own  property  and  earnings,  and  every  tax  is 
a  portion  of  this  money  taken  from  him  by  the  force 
and  authority  of  the  law.  Many  of  these  taxes  are,  no 
doubt,  for  purposes  in  which  he  has  the  highest  in- 
terest. They  give  him  the  necessary  security  of  life, 
property,  and  industry,  and  they  add  in  countless  ways 
to  his  enjoyment.  But  if  taxes  are  multiplied  for 
carrying  out  a  crowd  of  objects  in  which  he  has  no 
interest,  and  with  many  of  which  he  has  no  sympathy, 
his  liberty  is  proportionately  restricted.  His  money 
is  more  and  more  taken  from  him  by  force  for  purposes 
of  which  he  does  not  approve.  The  question  of  taxa- 
tion is  in  the  highest  degree  a  question  of  liberty,  and 
taxation  under  a  democracy  is  likely  to  take  forms  that 


en.  in.  DEMOCRACY  IS  NOT  LIBERTY  259 

are  peculiarly  hostile  to  liberty.  I  have  already  pointed 
out  how  the  old  fundamental  principle  of  English  free- 
dom, that  no  one  should  be  taxed  except  by  his  con- 
sent, is  being  gradually  discarded  ;  and  how  we  are 
steadily  advancing  to  a  state  in  which  one  class  will 
impose  the  taxes,  while  another  class  will  be  mainly 
compelled  to  pay  them.  It  is  obvious  that  taxation  is 
more  and  more  employed  for  objects  that  are  not  com- 
mon interests  of  the  whole  community,  and  that  there  is 
a  growing  tendency  to  look  upon  it  as  a  possible  means  of 
confiscation  ;  to  make  use  of  it  to  break  down  the  power, 
influence,  and  wealtli  of  particular  classes  ;  to  form  a 
new  social  type  ;  to  obtain  the  means  of  class  bribery. 

There  are  other  ways  in  which  democracy  does  not 
harmonise  well  with  liberty.  To  place  the  chief  power 
in  the  most  ignorant  classes  is  to  place  it  in  the  hands 
of  those  who  naturally  care  least  for  political  liberty, 
and  who  are  most  likely  to  follow  with  an  absolute  de- 
votion some  strong  leader.  The  sentiment  of  nation- 
ality penetrates  very  deeply  into  all  classes  ;  but  in  all 
countries  and  ages  it  is  the  upper  and  middle  classes 
who  hate  chiefly  valued  constitutional  liberty,  and 
those  classes  it  is  the  work  of  democracy  to  dethrone. 
At  the  same  time  democracy  does  much  to  weaken 
among  these  also  the  love  of  liberty.  The  instability 
and  insecurity  of  democratic  politics ;  the  spectacle  of 
dishonest  and  predatory  adventurers  climbing  by  popu- 
lar suffrage  into  positions  of  great  power  in  the  State  ; 
the  alarm  which  attacks  on  property  seldom  fail  to 
produce  among  those  who  have  something  to  lose,  may 
easily  scare  to  the  side  of  despotism  large  classes  who, 
under  other  circumstances,  would  have  been  steady 
supporters  of  liberty.  A  despotism  which  secures 
order,  property,  and  industry,  which  leaves  the  liberty 
of  religion  and  of  private  life  unimpaired,  and  which 


260  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  hi. 

enables  quiet  and  industrious  men  to  pass  through  life 
untroubled  and  unmolested,  will  always  appear  to 
many  very  preferable  to  a  democratic  republic  which  is 
constantly  menacing,  disturbing,  or  plundering  them. 
It  would  be  a  great  mistake  to  suppose  that  the  French 
despotic  Empire  after  1852  rested  on  bayonets  alone. 
It  rested  partly  on  the  genuine  consent  of  those  large 
agricultural  classes  who  cared  greatly  for  material  pro- 
sperity and  very  little  for  constitutional  liberty,  and 
partly  on  the  panic  produced  among  the  middle  classes 
by  the  socialist  preaching  of  1848. 

The  dangers  to  be  apprehended  from  democracy 
are  enormously  increased  when  the  transformation  is 
effected  by  sudden  bounds.  Governments  or  societies 
may  be  fundamentally  changed,  without  producing 
any  great  convulsion  or  catastrophe,  if  the  continuity 
of  habit  is  preserved,  if  the  changes  are  made  by  slow, 
gradual,  and  almost  imperceptible  steps.  As  I  have 
already  said,  it  is  one  of  the  evils  of  our  present  party 
system  that  it  greatly  accelerates  this  progress.  Very 
few  constitutional  changes  are  the  results  of  a  genuine, 
spontaneous,  unforced  development.  They  are  mainly, 
or  at  least  largely,  due  to  rival  leaders  bidding  against 
each  other  for  popularity;  to  agitators  seeking  for 
party  purposes  to  raise  a  cry ;  to  defeated  statesmen 
trying,  when  they  are  condemned  by  existing  constitu- 
encies, to  regain  power  by  creating  new  ones.  The 
true  origin  of  some  of  the  most  far-reaching  changes 
of  our  day  is,  probably,  simply  a  desire  so  to  shuffle 
cards  or  combine  votes  as  to  win  an  election.  With  a 
powerful  Upper  Chamber  and  a  strong  organisation  of 
property  in  the  electorate,  the  conservative  influences 
are  sufficient  to  prevent  a  too  rapid  change.  But 
when  these  checks  are  weakened  and  destroyed,  and 
when  there  are  no  constitutional  provisions  to  take 


CH.  III.  THE  IRISH  REPRESENTATION  261 

their  place,  the  influences  working  in  the  direction  of 
change  acquire  an  enormously  augmented  force,  the 
dangers  of  the  process  are  incalculably  increased,  and 
the  new  wine  is  very  likely  to  burst  the  old  bottles. 

It  is  impossible  to  foretell  with  confident  accuracy  in 
what  form  societies  will  organise  their  governments  if, 
under  the  pressure  of  democracy,  our  present  system  of 
parliamentary  government  breaks  down.  A  study  of 
the  methods  which  many  different  countries  have 
adopted,  and  especially  of  the  manner  in  which  Ame- 
rica has  dealt  with  the  dangers  of  democracy,  fur- 
nishes us  with  perhaps  the  best  light  we  can  obtain. 
But,  within  the  framework  of  the  British  Constitu- 
tion, a  few  remedies  or  mitigations  of  existing  evils 
have  been  suggested,  which  may  be  easily,  or  at  least 
without  any  insuperable  difficulty,  introduced. 

The  first  and  most  obvious  is  a  change  in  the  Irish 
representation.  The  presence  in  the  House  of  Com- 
mons of  a  body  of  men  who  are  entirely  detached  from 
the  general  interests  of  the  Empire,  and  prepared  to 
subordinate  all  Imperial  concerns  to  their  own  special 
policy,  must  always  bring  with  it  some  danger  ;  and 
there  could  hardly  be  a  greater  folly  than  to  allow  such 
an  element  to  possess  an  abnormal  and  wholly  exces- 
sive share  in  the  representation.  Few  more  foolish  or 
wicked  acts  have  been  done  in  modern  times  than  the 
lowering  of  the  suffrage  in  Ireland,  by  which  this  great 
evil  and  danger  was  deliberately  raised  to  its  present 
magnitude,  while  not  a  single  step  was  taken,  either 
by  curtailing  representation,  or  redistributing  seats,  or 
securing  a  representation  of  minorities,  to  mitigate  the 
evil.  Such  a  policy,  indeed,  would  seem  simple  mad- 
ness if  party  interest  did  not  furnish  an  explanation. 
It  is  acknowledged  that  the  Irish  representation,  if 
measured  by  the  test  of    numbers    alone,   is    about 


262  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  in. 

twenty-three  seats  in  excess  of  its  proper  number.  If 
the  far  more  rational  test  of  numbers  and  taxation 
combined  be  taken,  the  excess  is  still  greater.  It  is  an 
excess,  too,  which  is  mainly  in  one  portion  of  Ireland, 
and  in  one  class — the  most  ignorant,  the  most  disloyal, 
the  most  amenable  to  sinister  influence.  The  steady 
action  of  this  party  has  been  to  disintegrate  and  de- 
grade parliamentary  government,  to  support  every 
measure  in  the  direction  of  anarchy  or  plunder.  Yet 
it  is  well  known  that  for  some  years  the  Government 
of  England  depended  for  its  existence,  not  only  on  the 
Irish  vote,  but  on  the  illegitimate  strength  of  that  vote. 
If  we  look  through  the  more  revolutionary  and  dange- 
rous measures  of  the  last  few  years,  we  shall  find  that 
very  few  have  been  carried  through  all  their  stages  by 
an  English  majority  and  not  many  by  a,  British  majo- 
rity, while  some  of  the  worst  measures  could  never 
have  been  carried  by  the  votes  of  the  whole  kingdom  if 
the  Irish  representa'tion  had  not  been  disproportion- 
ately large.  And  the  men  who  have  kept  a  Govern- 
ment in  power,  and  largely  influenced  its  policy,  have 
been  men  who  are  avowedly  and  ostentatiously  indiffe- 
rent to  the  welfare  of  the  Empire,  men  whose  votes  on 
questions  vitally  affecting  British  or  Imperial  interests 
are  notoriously  governed  by  considerations  in  which 
these  interests  have  no  part.  It  is  owing  to  the  exces- 
sive number  of  such  men  in  Parliament  that  a  system 
of  taxation  has  been  carried  through  the  House  of  Com- 
mons which  may  break  up  the  social  organisation  on 
which  a  great  part  of  the  wellbeing  of  England  has  de- 
pended for  nearly  a  thousand  years.  No  one  supposes 
that  the  Irish  surplus  which  turned  the  balance  felt 
the  smallest  interest  in  the  result. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  conceive  a  situation  either 
more  dangerous,  or  more  absurd,  or  more  humiliating 


CH.  III.  THE  IRISH  REPRESENTATION  263 

than  this.  According  to  all  rational  conceptions  of 
constitutional  government,  it  should  be  the  object  of 
the  legislator  to  strengthen  the  influence  of  intelli- 
gence, loyalty,  and  property  in  the  representation,  and 
in  every  change  to  improve,  or  not  to  injure,  the  cha- 
racter of  Parliament.  If,  however,  such  ideas  are  dis- 
carded as  obsolete  and  behind  the  age,  if  the  new 
worship  of  mere  numbers  prevails,  to  the  u titer  disre- 
gard of  all  the  real  interests  of  the  State,  the  present 
representation  of  Ireland  is  still  completely  indefensible. 
The  argument  from  the  100  votes  stipulated  by  the 
Union  treaty  has  been  torn  to  pieces  by  the  legislation 
of  the  last  few  years.  A  party  which  has  abolished  the 
Established  Church  of  Ireland,  which  the  Irish  Parlia- 
ment made  '  an  essential  and  fundamental  part  of  the 
Union,'  and  which  threatens  to  abolish  the  Established 
Church  of  Scotland,  which  was  guaranteed  with  equal 
solemnity  at  both  the  Scotch  and  the  Irish  Unions, 
cannot  avail  itself  of  such  an  argument.  And  the  ab- 
surdity becomes  still  more  manifest  when  it  is  femem- 
bered  that  the  great  industrial  counties  in  Ireland, 
which  represent  its  most  progressive  and  loyal  portions, 
are  not  over-represented,  but  under-represented,  and 
that,  as  the  result  of  the  present  system,  in  three 
provinces  property,  loyalty,  and  intelligence  are  prac- 
tically disfranchised. 

There  can  be  little  doubt  that  a  reduction,  and  at 
the  same  time  a  rearrangement,  of  the  Irish  represen- 
tation would  greatly  improve  the  constitution  of  par- 
ties, and  it  would  certainly  be  a  great  blessing  to  Ireland. 
Should  this  reduction  be  effected,  it  is  to  be  hoped  that 
the  seats  taken  from  Ireland  may  not  be  added  to  Great 
Britain,  and  that  statesmen  will  avail  themselves  of  the 
opportunity  to  effect  some  slight  diminution  of  the 
numbers  of  the  House. 


264  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  hi. 

Nearly  all  tlie  methods  by  Avhicli  it  has  been  at- 
tempted to  secure  in  Parliament  a  representation  of 
the  various  classes  and  interests  of  the  community 
seem  passing  away  under  the  influence  of  democracy. 
Unequal  constituencies,  restrictions  of  the  suffrage, 
property  qualifications,  special  representations  of  pro- 
perty, are  all  denounced  as  opposed  to  the  spirit  of  the 
age.  Direct  class  representation  also,  which  has  borne 
a  large  part  in  the  history  of  representative  govern- 
ment, has  been  steadily  declining,  though  it  has  in  our 
own  day  some  able  defenders,^  and  though  it  is,  I  think, 
by  no  means  impossible  that  in  some  future  stage  of  the 
world's  history  it  may  be  largely  revived.  The  appor- 
tionment of  political  power  between  distinctly  separated 
classes  has,  indeed,  been  one  of  the  oldest  and  most 
fruitful  ideas  in  political  philosophy.  It  existed  in 
Athens  even  before  the  days  of  Solon,  and  Solon,  in 
his  revision  of  the  Athenian  Constitution,  divided  the 
citizens  into  four  classes,  according  to  the  amount  of 
their  jwoperty,  subjecting  each  class  to  a  special  pro- 


'  See,  e.p'.,  the  remarkable  C'est  le  fait  de  toutes  les  mi- 
book  of  M.  Adolphe  Prins,  norites  electorales  sous  le  re- 
L' Organisation  de  la  LibeHe  gime  de  la  majorite  numerique. 
(Brussels,  1895).  M.  Prins  ob-  .  .  .  Le  suffrage  universel  mo- 
serves  :  '  II  est  incontestable  derne  c'est  surtout  le  suffrage 
que  le  suffrage  universel  sans  des  passions,  des  courants  irre- 
cadres,  sans  organisation,  sans  flecbis,  des  partis  extremes.  II 
groupement,  est  un  systeme  fac-  ne  laisse  aucune  place  aux  idees 
tice ;  il  ne  donne  que  I'ombre  moderees  et  il  ecrase  les  partis 
de  la  vie  politique.  11  n'atteint  moderes.  La  victoire  est  aux 
pas  le  seul  but  vraiment  poli-  exaltes.  La  representation  des 
tique  que  I'on  doive  avoir  en  intorets,  qui  contient  les  pas- 
vue,  et  qui  est  non  de  faire  vo-  sions  par  les  idees,  qui  mod^re 
ter  tout  le  monde,  mais  d'arri-  I'ardeur  des  partis  par  Taction 
ver  a  representer  le  mieux  les  des  facteurs  sociaux,  donne  a  la 
int6rets  du  plus  grand  nombre.  societe  plus  d'equilibre  '  (pp. 
...  On  pent  avoir  le  droit  186,  187,  201). 
de   vote   sans    etre    represente. 


CH.  in.  CLASS  REPRESENTATION  265 

portion  of  taxation,  and  giving  each  class  special  and 
peculiar  privileges  in  the  State.'  In  the  Roman  repub- 
lic the  citizens  were  divided  into  six  different  classes, 
according  to  the  amount  of  their  property,  the  lowest 
class  comprising  the  poorest  citizens ;  and  each  class 
was  subdivided  into  a  number  of  '  centuries,'  propor- 
tioned to  what  was  considered  their  importance  in  the 
State,  and  each  century  had  a  single  vote  in  enacting 
laws  and  electing  magistrates.  Cicero  claims  for  this 
system  that  it  gave  some  voice  to  every  class,  but  a 
greatly  preponderating  voice  to  those  who  had  most 
interest  in  the  wellbeing  of  the  State. '^  A  similar  idea 
inspired  the  special  representation  of  the  three  es- 
tates of  Lords,  Clergy,  and  Commons,  which  grew  up 
in  the  Middle  Ages,  and  which,  played  a  great  part  in 
the  early  constitutional  history  of  England,  France, 
and  Spain.  The  four  orders  of  Nobles,  Clergy,  Bur- 
gesses, and  Peasants  were  separately  represented  in 
Sweden  up  to  1866,  and  the  same  system  still  survives 
in  the  Constitution  of  Finland.  In  the  Prussian  Con- 
stitution of  1850  an  attempt  is  made  to  maintain  a 
balance  of  classes  by  dividing  the  electors  '  of  the  first 
degree'  into  three  different  classes,  according  to  the 
direct  taxes  they  pay,  and  giving  each  class  a  separate 
and  equal  power  of  election.  In  the  still  more  recent 
Constitution  of  Austria  the  electors  are  divided  into 
four  great  classes — the  large  territorial  proprietors,  the 
towns,  the  chambers  of  commerce,  and  the  rural  com- 


'  See    Grote's     History^     iii.  stitution  is  attributed  to  Servius 

118-21.  Tullius,  but  probably  acquired 

" '  Ita  nee  prohibebatur  quia-  its  most  characteristic  features 

quam  jure  suffragii,  et  is  vale-  much  later.     It  was  for  some 

bat  in  suffragio  plurimum,  cujus  time  greatly  abused  by  the  first 

plurimum  intererat  esse  in  op-  class,  who  possessed  the  majo- 

tirao  statu  civitatum  '  (Cicero,  rity  of  centuries,  and  vpted  first. 
de  Rep  ublica,  ii .  22)  •     This  Con- 


266  DEMOCRACY  AND   LIBERTY  ch.  hi. 

munes — and  each  category  returns  its  own  members  to 
the  Chamber  of  the  Deputies.  But  it  is  evident  that 
the  present  stream  of  political  tendency  is  not  flowing 
in  this  direction,  and  it  is  remarkable  that  the  legisla- 
tors who  framed  the  Constitution  for  the  German  Em- 
pire did  not  follow  the  example  of  Prussia,  but  based 
the  representative  chamber  on  direct  universal  suffrage. 
It  is  now  chiefly  in  the  upper  chambers  that  class  repre- 
sentation may  be  found. 

The  question,  however,  of  proportionate  representa- 
tion, or  the  representation  of  minorities,  stands  on  a 
different  basis  from  the  representation  of  classes.  It 
can  hardly  be  contended  that  the  substitution  of  a 
representation  of  the  whole  nation  for  a  representation 
of  a  mere  majority  is  contrary  to  democratic  principles. 
It  is  manifest  that,  under  the  existing  system,  multi- 
tudes of  electors  are  in  effect  permanently  disfranchised 
and  unrepresented  because  they  are  in  a  permanent 
minority  in  the  constituencies  in  which  they  live.  The 
majority  possesses  not  merely  a  preponderance,  but  a 
monopoly  ;  and  in  a  constituency  where  three-fifths  vote 
one  way  and  two-fifths  the  other,  the  whole  representa- 
tion is  in  the  hands  of  the  former.  Where  constitu- 
encies are  very  unequal  in  their  magnitude  it  is  quite 
possible  that  a  majority  of  the  representatives  may  be 
returned  by  a  minority  of  the  electors,  as  the  minority 
in  a  large  constituency  will  often  outnumber  the  ma- 
jority in  a  small  one.  With  equalised  constituencies 
and  widely  extended  suffrage  another,  but  not  less  seri- 
ous, evil  will  prevail.  A  single  class — the  most  nu- 
merous, but  also  the  most  ignorant — will  generally 
exceed  all  others,  and  other  classes  in  large  numbers 
of  constituencies  will  be  wholly  unrepresented.  In 
such  a,  state  of  things,  the  importance  of  providing 
some  representation  for  minorities  is  extremely  great;, 


CH.  in.         PROPORTIONATE  REPRESENTATION  267 

and  it  continually  happens  that  the  proportion  of  par- 
ties in  the  representation  differs  very  widely  from  the 
proportion  in  the  electorate.  When  two-thirds  of  a 
constituency  vote  for  one  party,  and  one-third  for  the 
other,  it  is  obviously  just  that  the  majority  should 
have  two-thirds,  and  the  minority  one-third,  of  the 
representation. 

The  importance  of  this  question  has  been  widely  felt 
during  the  last  few  years  in  many  countries,  especially 
since  the  powerful  chapter  in  which  Mill  discussed  it. 
'  In  a  really  equal  democracy,'  he  wrote,  '  every  or  any 
section  would  be  represented,  not  disproportionately, 
but  proportionately.  A  majority  of  the  electors  would 
always  have  a  majority  of  the  representatives,  but  a 
minority  of  the  electors  would  have  a  minority  of  the 
representatives.  Man  for  man,  they  would  be  as  fully 
represented  as  the  majority.  Unless  they  are,  there  is 
not  equal  government,  but  government  of  inequality 
and  privilege,  .  .  .  contrary  to  the  principles  of  de- 
mocracy, which  professes  equality  as  its  very  root  and 
foundation.'  * 

There  are  several  methods  by  which  this  represen- 
tation of  minorities  may  be  obtained  with  more  or  less 
perfection.  The  most  perfect  is  that  which  was  first 
proposed  by  Mr.  Hare  in  1859.  It  has  undergone 
several  slight  modifications,  at  the  hands  either  of  Mr. 
Hare  or  of  his  disciples ;  but  it  will  here  be  sufficient 
to  state  its  principle  in  the  simplest  form.  The  legis- 
lator must  first  ascertain  the  number  of  voters  who 
are  entitled  to  return  a  member  ;  which  is  done  by 
the  easy  process  of  dividing  the  number  of  voters  in  the 
kingdom,  or  in  one  portion  of  the  kingdom,  by  the 
number  of  seats.     Every  candidate  who  can  gain  this 


Mill  On  Representative  Government^  p.  133. 


268  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  HL 

number  of  votes  is  to  be  elected,  whether  these  votes 
come  from  his  own  or  from  other  constituencies.  It  is 
proposed  that  each  elector  should  have  one  vote,  but 
should  vote  on  a  paper  on  which  the  candidate  he  pre- 
fers stands  first,  while  the  names  of  other  candidates 
follow  in  the  order  of  preference.  If,  when  the  paper 
is  drawn,  the  candidate  at  the  head  of  the  list  has  al- 
ready obtained  the  requisite  number  of  votes,  the  vote 
is  to  pass  to  the  first  of  the  succeeding  candidates  who 
is  still  deficient.  No  candidate  is  to  be  credited  with  a 
greater  number  of  votes  than  is  required  for  his  elec- 
tion, and  his  superfluous  votes  are  in  this  manner  to  be 
transferred  to  other  candidates  to  make  up  their  quota. 
And  this  transfer  is  to  be  made  quite  irrespectively  of 
the  locality  for  which  they  stand. 

It  cannot,  I  think,  be  said  that  there  is  anything 
very  mysterious  or  perplexing  in  this  proceeding, 
though  it  would  probably  be  some  little  time  before 
the  electors  became  accustomed  to  it,  and  though  it 
would  impose  some  difficulties  of  detail  and  some  rather 
complicated  calculations  upon  the  officials  who  worked 
it.  An  element  of  chance  would  always  remain,  as  the 
direction  of  the  votes  would  partly  depend  upon  the 
order  in  which  the  papers  were  drawn ;  and  it  would 
probably  be  found  impossible  to  adapt  the  system  to 
bye-elections,  which  might  continue  as  at  present.  If 
all  the  seats  were  not  filled  by  candidates  who  had  ob- 
tained the  requisite  number  of  votes,  those  who  ap- 
proximated most  nearly  to  the  number  might  be 
chosen  to  fill  the  vacancies.  The  plan  is  not  put  for- 
ward as  absolutely  perfect,  but  it  is  contended  for  it 
that  it  would  give  at  every  general  election  a  far  more 
accurate  representation  of  the  wishes  of  the  electorate 
than  our  present  system  ;  that  it  would  utilise  a  great 
number  of  votes  which  are  now  lost  or  wasted  ;  that  it 


CH.  III.  HARE'S  SYSTEM  269 

would  rekindle  political  life  among  large  classes  who 
are  at  present  in  a  hopeless  minority  in  their  consti- 
tuencies ;  that  it  would  diminish  the  oscillations  of 
politics,  by  preventing  the  wholly  disproportionate 
change  of  power  that  so  often  follows  a  slight  shifting 
in  the  electorate  ;  and  that  it  would  greatly  improve 
the  intellectual  level  of  the  House  of  Commons,  by 
making  it  the  interest  of  party  managers  to  select  can- 
didates of  acknowledged  eminence,  and  by  giving  such 
candidates  far  greater  chances  of  success.  It  has  been 
said  that  it  would  destroy  local  representation  ;  but  it 
is  answered  that  a  strong  local  candidate  would  usually 
have  most  chance  of  obtaining  the  required  number  of 
votes,  and  that  it  would  be  mainly  the  voters  who  are 
in  a  minority  in  their  constituency,  and  are  now  vir- 
tually disfranchised,  who  would  transfer  their  votes. 
On  the  great  majority  of  papers  a  local  candidate 
"would  almost  certainly  head  the  list.  It  is  urged  that 
the  system  realises  more  perfectly  than  any  other  the 
democratic  principle  of  absolute  equality,  while  it  at 
the  same  time  secures  the  representation  of  all  consider- 
able minorities.  Under  no  other  system  would  the 
representative  chamber  reflect  so  truly,  in  their  due 
numerical  proportion,  the  various  classes,  interests, 
and  opinions  of  the  nation. 

There  have  been,  as  I  have  said,  several  slight  modi- 
fications of  this  system — usually,  I  think,  not  im- 
provements. M.  de  Girardin  has  urged  that  all  local 
constituencies  should  be  abolished,  and  that  the  whole 
country  should  be  treated  as  one  great  constituency. 
Another  proposal  is,  that  each  candidate  should  have  a 
right  to  have  the  votes  for  him  that  are  in  excess  of 
those  required  for  his  election  transferred  to  some 
other  candidate  whom  he  had  previously  named.  I  do 
not  think  that,  if  Mr.  Hare's  system  were  adopted. 


270  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  in. 

there  would  be  any  great  difficulty  in  working  it,  and 
it  would  probably  materially  improve  the  Constitution  ; 
but  it  is  very  doubtful  whether,  in  a  democratic  age, 
public  opinion  would  ever  demand  with  sufficient  per- 
sistence a  representation  of  minorities,  or  whether  the 
British  nation  could  ever  be  induced  to  adopt  a  system 
which  departs  so  widely  from  its  traditional  forms  and 
habits.  It  is  remarkable,  however,  that  a  system  very 
like  that  of  Mr.  Hare  had,  without  his  knowledge, 
been  adopted  on  a  small  scale  in  Denmark  as  early  as 
1855.  It  was  due  to  a  distinguished  statesman  named 
Andreae,  who  was  also  a  distinguished  mathematician  ; 
and,  with  some  modifications  and  restrictions,  it  still 
continues.' 

Two  other  methods  have  been  proposed  for  giving 
representation  to  minorities  which,  though  much  less 
perfect  than  the  plan  of  Mr.  Hare,  diverge  much  less 
from  the  current  notions  about  representation.  One 
is  the  system  of  three-cornered  constituencies — that  is, 
of  constituencies  returning  three  members,  in  which 
every  elector  has  only  a  right  to  two  votes,  and  in 
which  a  minority  exceeding  a  third  could,  in  conse- 
quence, secure  one  representative.  This  system  was 
proposed  by  Lord  John  Russell  in  1854,  but  was  not 
received  with  favour.  In  1867  the  House  of  Lords, 
on  the  motion  of  Lord  Cairns,  introduced  it  into  the 
Reform  Bill,  and  it  became  law,  but  without  any  wide 
redistribution  of  seats.  If  the  three-cornered  system 
had  been  made  general,  it  would  probably  have  been 
readily  accepted,  and  soon  been  looked  upon  as  na- 
tural ;  but,  being  applied  only  to  thirteen  constituen- 


>  See  La  Representation  Pro-      presentation        Proportionnelle 
portionnelle^  published    by  the      (Paris,  1888),  pp.  338-66. 
Societe  pour  I'fitude  de  la  Re- 


CH.  in,  THE  REFORM  BILL  OF  1885  271 

cies,  it  jvas  an  exceptional  thing,  and  not  popular. 
Birmingham  and  one  or  two  other  great  towns  resented 
the  addition  of  a  third  member,  whose  vote  in  a  party 
division  might  counteract  that  of  one  of  the  two  rep- 
resentatives they  already  possessed,  and  therefore 
diminish  instead  of  increase  their  political  strength. 
In  cases  where  the  majority  equalled  or  slightly  ex- 
ceeded two-thirds  much  difficult  and  expensive  organi- 
sation was  required  to  enable  it  to  retain  the  three 
seats  to  which,  according  to  its  numbers,  it  was  en- 
titled. Bright,  who  himself  sat  for  Birmingham, 
opposed  the  system  with  great  bitterness  and  persis- 
tence, and  the  Radical  party  were  generally  hostile  to 
it.  It  was  accordingly  abolished  in  the  Eeform  Bill  of 
1885,  which  broke  up  the  great  majority  of  the  con- 
stituencies into  smaller  divisions,  each  retaining  one 
member.  It  was  contended  that  such  subdivision  im- 
proved the  chances  of  a  minority ;  but  the  case  of 
Ireland  abundantly  shows  how  little  reliance  can  be 
placed  on  this  security,^  and  the  adoption  of  such  seats 
greatly  added  to  the  difficulty  of  establishing  any  gene- 
ral system  of  minority  representation. 

'  Nothing  is  more  remarkable,'  writes  Mr.  Hare  in 
speaking  of  this  episode,  '  than  that  the  attempts  to 
retrace  the  steps  that  have  been  made  towards  render- 
ing the  representative  bodies  comprehensive,  and  not 
exclusive  in  their  character,  should  all  emanate  from 
members  of  the  Liberal  party,  which  is  understood  to 
insist  upon  equality  in  political  freedom,  without  par- 
tiality in  fat^our  of  person  or  place.  The  abolition  of 
the  restricted  vote  was  put  forward  as  a  pretended  vin- 
dication of  electoral  rights,  while,  by  delivering  the 


'  See  on  this  subject  an  admiral)le  pamphlet  by  Mr.  Aubrey  de 
Vere,  called  Ireland  and  Proportional  Eepreseniation  (1885). 


272  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  Ch.  hi. 

electoral  power  of  every  community  over  to  the  majo- 
rity, it  would  practically  disfranchise  a  third,  or  even 
more,  of  the  electors.'* 

The  other  system  is  that  of  the  cumulative  vote,  by 
which,  in  a  constituency  returning  three  or  more 
members,  each  elector  has  a  right  to  as  many  votes  as 
there  are  members,  and  may  either  distribute  them,  or 
concentrate  them,  if  he  pleases,  on  a  single  candidate. 
This  method  is  more  likely  to  be  popular  than  the 
limited  vote,  as  it  gives  a  privilege  instead  of  imposing 
a  restriction,  and  it  would  undoubtedly  be  effectual  in 
enabling  any  considerable  minority  to  return  a  mem- 
ber. It  was  strongly,  but  unsuccessfully,  advocated 
by  Mr.  Lowe  in  1867,  and  it  was  introduced  into  the 
school  board  elections  in  1870.  Various  inequalities 
and  anomalies  have  been  pointed  out  in  its  working, 
but,  on  the  whole,  it  is  undoubtedly  efficacious  in  giv- 
ing minorities  a  real  representation.  It  is  manifest, 
however,  that  it  can  only  be  really  useful  in  constitu- 
encies represented  by  more  than  two  members. 

These  various  methods  are  attempts  to  attain  an  end 
which  was,  on  the  whole,  roughly  though  unsystemati- 
cally  attained  under  the  older  methods  of  represen- 
tation. Various  other  devices  have  been  proposed, 
which,  however,  have  at  present  no  chance  of  being 
accepted.  Perhaps  the  only  exception  is  aMow  educa- 
tional qualification,  obliging  the  electors  at  least  to  be 
able  to  read  and  write.  Such  a  qualification  was  much 
recommended  by  Mill,  and  it  has  passed  into  several 
democratic  constitutions.  It  was  first  introduced  in 
the  French  Eevolutionary  Constitution  of  1795,  but  it 
was  not  reproduced  in  any  of  the  subsequent  French 
constitutions.     It  exists,  however,  in  Portugal,  Italy, 


*  Hare  On  the  Election  of  Representatives.^  4th  ed.  p.  14. 


CH.  III.  PLURAL  v6ting  273 

and  EoTimania,  and  in  some  of  the  republics  of  South 
America.^  The  most  recent  and  most  extensive  in- 
stance of  the  adoption  of  plural  voting  has  been  in  the 
new  Constitution  of  Belgium.  The  electors  are  di- 
vided into  three  classes.  One  vote  is  given  to  all  male 
persons  above  twenty-five  years  of  age  who  have  resided 
for  a  year  in  one  constituency ;  an  additional  vote  is 
given  to  married  men  and  widowers,  of  not  less  than 
thirty-five  years,  with  families,  paying  a  personal  tax 
of  five  francs  to  the  State  on  the  buildings  they  in- 
habit, and  also  to  the  owners  of  property  of  a  certain 
amount ;  while  a  third  and  smaller  class,  formed  out 
of  men  who  have  received  a  higher  education,  filled  a 
public  function,  or  belonged  to  a  learned  profession, 
are  entitled  to  three  votes.  In  this  very  democratic 
constitution  a  form  of  compulsion  is  introduced  which 
does  not,  I  believe,  exist  in  any  other  contemporary 
constitution.  All  voters  who  have  not  obtained  a 
special  exemption  from  a  judge  are  compelled  to  vote, 
and  are  liable  to  a  fine  if  they  abstain. 

It  is  too  soon  to  form  a  conclusive  opinion  on  either 
the  value  or  the  permanence  of  the  Belgian  system  of 
plural  voting,  incorporated  in  an  extremely  democratic 
constitution.  It  is  especially  interesting  to  English 
observers,  as  being  an  attempt  to  carry  out  in  some 
measure  one  of  the  favourite  ideas  of  Mill. 

Mill,  was  not  insensible  to  the  danger  and  injustice  of 
dissociating  the  power  of  voting  taxes  from  the  neces- 
sity of  paying  them,  and  to  the  fact  that  unqualified 
universal  suffrage  leads  plainly  and  rapidly  to  this 
form  of  robbery.  Universal  suffrage  he  valued  in  the 
highest  degree  as  a  system  of  education,  and  he  was 
quite  prepared,  for  educational  purposes,  to  give  the 


" '  Revue  de  Droit  International^  zziy.  97. 
VOL.  I.  18 


274  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  hi. 

most  incompetent  classes  in  the  community  an  enor- 
mous power  of  determining  the  vital  interests  of  the 
Empire,  regulating  the  industry,  and  disposing  of  the 
property  of  tlieir  neighbours.  He  imagined  that  he 
could  mitigate  or  avert  the  danger  by  two  expedients. 
One  was  to  extend  direct  taxation  to  the  very  lowest 
class,  imposing  a  small  annual  tax  in  the  form  of  capi- 
tation on  every  grown  person  in  the  community.  If 
this  direct  tax  could  be  made  to  rise  or  fall  with  the 
gross  expenditure  of  the  country,  he  believed  that 
every  elector  would  feel  himself  directly  interested  in 
wise  and  economical  administration.  Paupers  and 
bankrupts,  and  those  who  had  not  paid  their  taxes, 
were  to  be  excluded  from  the  suffrage.  Is  it  a  rash 
thing  to  say  that  the  very  first  measure  of  a  Kadical 
Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer  who  desired  to  win  a 
doubtful  election  under  the  system  of  universal  suffrage 
would  be  to  abolish  this  capitation  tax  ? 

The  other  expedient  was  a  very  great  extension  of 
plural  voting.  Every  man  and  every  woman,  accord- 
ing to  Mill,  should  have  a  vote,  but  in  order  to  correct 
the  great  dangers  of  class  legislation  and  a  too  low 
standard  of  political  intelligence,  large  classes  should 
be  strengthened  by  a  plurality  of  votes.  Employers  of 
labour,  foremen,  labourers  in  the  more  skilled  trades, 
bankers,  merchants,  and  manufacturers,  might  all  be 
given  two  or  more  votes.  Similar  or  greater  advan- 
tages might  be  given  to  the  members  of  the  liberal 
professions,  to  graduates  of  universities,  to  those  who 
had  passed  through  different  kinds  of  open  examina- 
tion. The  old  system,  according  to  which  those  who 
possessed  property  in  different  constituencies  had  a 
vote  in  each,  should  be  preserved,  although  it  was  an 
imperfect  one  ;  but  it  should  be  considerably  extended. 
'  In  any  future  Reform  Bill  which  lowers  greatly  the 


CH.  III.  PLURAL*  VOTING  275 

pecuniary  conditions  of  the  suffrage  it  might  be  a  wise 
provision  to  allow  all  graduates  of  universities,  all 
persons  who  had  passed  creditably  through  the  higher 
schools,  all  members  of  the  liberal  professions,  and 
perhaps  some  others,  to  be  registered  specifically  in 
these  characters,  and  to  give  their  votes  as  such  in  any 
constituency  in  which  they  choose  to  register,  retain- 
ing, in  addition,  their  votes  as  simple  citizens  in  the 
localities  in  which  they  reside.' ' 

It  is  sufficiently  obvious  how  utterly  opposed  all 
these  views  are  to  the  predominating  tendency  of  mo- 
dern English  Eadicalism,  with  its  watchword  of  one 
man,  one  vote,  and  its  steadily  successful  efforts  to 
place  the  property  and  the  liberty  of  the  Empire  under 
the  complete  dominion  of  the  poorest  and  the  most 
ignorant.  In  the  first  cast  of  the  Reform  Bill  of  1867 
Disraeli  introduced  a  number  of  qualifications  very 
much  in  the  spirit  of  those  which  had  been  advocated 
by  Mill.  While  enormously  extending  and  lowering 
the  suffrage  connected  with  the  ownership  and  occupa- 
tion of  property,  he  proposed  to  confer  a  number  of 
votes  of  another  description.  There  was  an  educa- 
tional franchise,  to  be  conferred  on  all  graduates  of 
universities,  on  all  male  persons  who  had  passed  at  any 
senior  middle-class  examination  of  any  university  of 
the  United  Kingdom,  on  all  priests  and  deacons  of  the 
Established  Church,  all  ministers  of  other  denomi- 
nations, all  barristers,  pleaders,  attorneys,  medical  men, 
or  certificated  schoolmasters.  There  was  a  pecuniary 
franchise,  to  belong  to  every  man  who,  during  the 
preceding  two  years,  had  a  balance  of  not  less  than 
fifty  pounds  in  a  savings  bank,  or  in  the  Bank  of 
England,  or  in  any  parliamentary  stock,  or  who  paid 


'  Mill  On  Representative  Government^  pp.  165-71. 


276  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  iil 

twenty  shillings  for  assessed  taxes  or  income-tax  ;  and 
there  was  a  clause  enabling  voters  in  a  borough  to  be 
registered  on  two  different  qualifications,  and  to  exer- 
cise in  consequence  a  dual  vote. 

It  was  intended  by  these  franchises  to  qualify  the 
'  ascendency  of  mere  numbers  by  strengthening  in  the 
electorate  intelligence,  education,  property,  and  fru- 
gality. All  such  attempts,  however,  were  opposed  by 
Mr.  Gladstone  and  his  followers,  and  the  new  fran- 
chises were  very  lightly  abandoned  by  their  author. 
They  were  usually  condemned  and  ridiculed  as  '  fancy 
franchises  ' — a  curious  instance  of  the  manner  in  which, 
in  English  politics,  a  nickname  that  is  neither  very 
witty  nor  very  descriptive  can  be  made  to  take  the 
place  of  serious  argument. 

No  such  efforts  to  improve  the  electorate  are  now 
likely  to  obtain  even  a  respectful  hearing.  Whether, 
however,  they  have  passed  for  ever  is  another  question. 
When  the  present  evils  infecting  our  parliamentary 
system  have  grown  still  graver ;  when  a  democratic 
House,  more  and  more  broken  up  into  small  groups, 
more  and  more  governed  by  sectional  or  interested 
motives,  shall  have  shown  itself  evidently  incompetent 
to  conduct  the  business  of  the  country  with  honour, 
efficiency,  and  safety ;  when  public  opinion  has  learnt 
more  fully  the  enormous  danger  to  national  prosperity, 
as  well  as  individual  happiness,  of  dissociating  power 
from  property,  and  giving  the  many  an  unlimited 
right  of  confiscating  by  taxation  the  possessions  of  the 
few,  some  great  reconstruction  of  government  is  sure 
to  be  demanded.  Fifty,  or  even  twenty-five  years 
hence,  the  current  of  political  opinion  in  England 
may  be  as  different  from  that  of  our  own  day  as  con- 
temporary political  tendencies  are  different  from  those 
in  the  generation  of  our  fathers.     Expedients  and  ar- 


CH.  iir.  THE  REFERENDUM  277 

guments  that  are  now  dismissed  with  contempt  may 
then  revive,  and  play  no  small  part  in  the  politics  of 
the  future. 

One  great  possible  constitutional  change,  very  new 
to  English  public  opinion,  has  risen  with  remarkable 
rapidity  into  prominence  in  the  last  few  years,  and  is 
perhaps  destined  hereafter  to  have  an  extensive  influ- 
ence. I  mean  the  Swiss  Eeferendum.  Eousseau,  in 
his  *  Contrat  Social,'  maintained  that  all  laws  ought  to 
be  voted  by  universal  male  suffrage,  and  that  no  law 
which  had  not  received  this  direct  sanction  was  bind- 
ing. It  is  probable  that  in  this,  as  in  some  other  parts 
of  his  political  philosophy,  he  was  much  influenced  by 
his  Swiss  experience,  for- the  old  form  of  government 
known  as  the  Landsgemeinde,  according  to  which  all 
the  adult  males  assemble  twice  a  year  to  vote  their  laws 
and  elect  their  functionaries  by  universal  suffrage,  ex- 
isted widely  in  his  time,  both  in  the  town  governments 
and  the  canton  governments  of  Switzerland.  It  is  a 
form  of  government  which  has  played  a  great  part  in 
the  early  history  of  mankind,  but  it  is  manifestly  un- 
suited  to  wide  areas  and  large  populations.  It  was 
abolished  in  our  own  century  in  Zug  and  in  Schwytz, 
but  it  may  still  be  seen  in  Uri,  Unterwalden,  Appen- 
zell,  and  Glarus.  The  French  Convention,  in  1793, 
attempted  to  carry  out  the  doctrine  of  Eousseau  by  in- 
troducing into  its  Constitution  a  provision  that,  in  case 
a  certain  proportion  of  the  electors  desired  it,  there 
should  be  a  popular  vote  upon  every  law  ;  and  although 
this  Constitution  was  never  put  into  force,  the  same 
doctrine  was,  as  we  have  seen,  in  some  degree  carried 
out  in  the  shape  of  plebiscites  directly  sanctioning 
several  changes  of  government. 

In  Switzerland  it  has  taken  the  form  of  the  Eefe- 
rendum, which  appears  to  have  grown  out  of  the  Lands- 


278  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  hi. 

gemeinde.  It  became  a  regular  and  permanent  element 
in  Swiss  government  after  the  French  Revolution  of 
1830,  and  in  recent  times  it  has  been  largely  extended. 
The  Referendum  is  not  intended  as  a  substitute  for 
representative  government,  but  as  a  final  court  of  ap- 
peal, giving  the  electors,  by  a  direct  vote,  the  right  of 
veto  or  ratification  upon  measures  which  had  already 
passed  the  legislative  chambers.  For  many  years  it 
was  confined  to  the  separate  cantons,  and  it  took  differ- 
ent forms.  Sometimes  it  was  restricted  to  new  taxes 
and  changes  in  the  constitutions  of  the  cantons.  In 
several  cantons  it  is  chiefly  optional,  taking  place  only 
when  a  specified  number  of  electors  demand  it.  In 
other  cantons  it  is  compulsory,  the  constitution  pro- 
viding that  all  laws  passed  by  the  representative  body 
must  be  submitted  to  a  direct  popular  vote  in  order  to 
acquire  validity.  In  all  the  cantons  there  is  now  a 
compulsory  Referendum  on  every  proposition  to  alter 
the  cantonal  constitution,  and  in  many  cantons  there  is 
a  compulsory  Referendum  on  every  expenditure  of  pub- 
lic money,  beyond  a  certain  specified  sum,  varying  ac- 
cording to  their  extent  and  population.  The  Catholic 
canton  of  Fribourg  is  now  the  only  one  which  confines 
it  to  questions  of  constitutional  revision. 

The  Referendum  was  introduced  into  the  Federal 
system  by  the  Constitution  of  1848,  but  it  was  only 
made  applicable  to  the  single  case  of  constitutional  re- 
vision. Every  change  in  the  Constitution  made  by  the 
Federal  Legislature  required  the  ratification  of  a  direct 
popular  vote.  In  the  Constitution  of  1874,  however,  the 
province  of  the  Referendum  was  largely  extended,  for 
it  was  provided  that  all  Federal  laws,  as  Avell  as  general 
Federal  decrees  which  were  not  of  an  urgent  nature, 
should  be  submitted  to  the  popular  vote  on  the  demand 
of  30,000  qualified  voters  or  of  eight  cantons.     A  re- 


CH.  III.  THE  REFERENDUM  279 

markable  provision  was  also  inserted  in  this  Constitu- 
tion giving  the  people  some  right  of  initiative,  as  well 
as  ratification,  in  matters  of  constitutional  revision.  If 
50,000  voters  demanded  it,  a  popular  vote  must  be 
taken  on  the  question  whether  the  Constitution  should 
be  revised  ;  and,  if  it  was  in  favour  of  revision,  the  two 
Federal  Councils  were  renewed  for  the  purpose  of  un- 
dertaking the  task.  A  revision  of  the  Constitution 
which  was  carried  in  1891  went  much  further.  It  en- 
titled 50,000  voters  to  obtain  a  popular  vote  which 
might  decree  directly  the  introduction  of  a  new  article, 
or  the  abolition  or  modification  of  an  old  article  of  the 
Helvetic  Constitution.^  In  all  these  ways  the  nation 
directly  intervenes  to  dictate  or  to  make  its  own  laws, 
and  the  power  of  the  representative  bodies  is  to  that 
extent  abridged.  A  corresponding  tendency  to  give  the 
popular  vote  an  initiative  in  legislation  has  appeared  in 
some  of  the  separate  cantons. 

Laveleye  has  collected  an  interesting  series  of  exam- 
ples of  the  manner  in  which  this  power  has  been  used.^ 
On  the  whole  the  popular  vote,  when  it  extends  over 
the  entire  Confederation,  more  frequently  negatives 
than  ratifies  the  measures  submitted  to  it.  The  ten- 
dencies which  it  most  strongly  shows  are  a  dislike  to 
large  expenditure,  a  dislike  to  centralisation,  a  dislike 
to  violent  innovation.  The  Referendum  is  more  fre- 
quently employed  in  cantonal  than  in  Federal  legislation. 
Between  the  enactment  of  the  Constitution  of  1874  and 
July  1891  about  130  laws  passed  through  the  Federal 
Chamber.  Of  these,  sixteen  only,  exclusive  of  some 
constitutional    modifications,    were   submitted   to   the 


'  Dareste,    Constitutions  Mo-  See,   too,   the   chapter   on    the 

dernes,,  ii.  658.  Swiss  Referendum  in  Oberholt- 

"  Laveleye,  Le  Gouvernement  zer'e  Referendum  in  America, 

dans  la  Bemocratie,  ii.  146-70.  pp.  10-14. 


280  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  hi. 

popular  vote,  and,  of  these  sixteen,  eleven  were  rejected. 
The  chief  charges  that  have  been  brought  against  the 
popular  vote  are,  that  it  refuses  adequate  stipends  to 
public  servants,  and  is  very  niggardly  in  providing  for 
works  of  public  utility,  especially  when  they  relate  to 
interests  that  are  not  easily  appreciated  by  agricultural 
peasants.  On  the  whole,  it  has  been  decidedly  con- 
servative, though  there  have  been  a  few  exceptions. 
It  sanctioned  the  severely  graduated  taxation  which 
exists  in  some  of  the  Swiss  cantons  ;  but  in  Neuchatel 
the  system  of  graduated  taxation,  having  been  accepted 
by  the  Grand  Council,  was  rejected  by  the  Eeferendum, 
and  the  same  thing  has  happened  still  more  recently  in 
the  canton  of  Berne. ^  One  remarkable  vote,  which  was 
taken  in  1879,  restored  to  the  different  cantons  the 
power  of  introducing  capital  punishment  into  their 
criminal  codes,  which  had  been  taken  from  them  by 
the  Constitution  of  1874.  A  somewhat  curious  recent 
vote  has  prohibited  the  Jews  from  killing  their  cattle  in 
the  way  prescribed  by  their  law.  In  this  case  the  anti- 
Semitic  feeling  and  a  feeling  of  what  was  supposed  to 
be  humanity  to  animals  probably  blended,  though  in 
very  unequal  proportions. 

The  popularity  of  the  Eeferendum  in  Switzerland  is 
clearly  shown  by  the  rapidity  with  which  its  scope  has 
been  extended.  There  is  a  very  remarkable  movement 
of  the  same  kind  in  America,  where  in  State  politics 


*  See  the  Report  on  Graduated,  that  witnessed  the  rejection  of 

Taxation  in    Switzerland  pre-  the    most    important    measure 

sented  to  the  Foreign  Office  in  which  it  had  passed  in  the  pre- 

1892,    p.    15.      Mr.    Buchanan,  vious  session   of  the  Cantonal 

the  author  of  this  Report,  men-  Grand   Council.'      This    shows 

tions  the  remarkable  fact  that  how    clearly    the    Referendum 

in  this  canton  '  the  Radical  party  vote  can  be  kept  separate  from 

was  returned  to  power  by  a  very  party  questions, 
large  majority  on  the  same  day 


CH.  III.  THE  REFERENDUM  IN  AMERICA  281 

the  tendency  runs  strongly  in  favour  of  a  substitution 
of  direct  popular  legislation  for  legislation  through  the 
medium  of  representative  bodies.  Every  change  in  a 
State  Government  is  now  made  by  summoning  a  con- 
vention for  that  express  purpose,  and  the  revision  de- 
termined on  by  this  convention  must  be  sanctioned  by 
a  direct  popular  vote.  In  this  respect,  therefore,  the 
State  constitutions  of  the  United  States  rest  on  ex- 
actly the  same  basis  as  the  cantonal  governments  of 
Switzerland,  and  the  same  system  has  been  widely  ex- 
tended to  various  forms  of  municipal  and  county  go- 
vernment. In  many  State  constitutions  it  is  prescribed 
that  the  State  capital  can  only  be  changed  by  a  popular 
vote,  and  in  one  or  two  constitutions  the  same  restric- 
tion applies  to  transfers  of  great  local  institutions.  In 
a  large  number  of  cases,  as  I  have  already  noticed,  the 
extreme  corruption  of  the  State  legislatures  has  led  the 
people  to  introduce  clauses  into  their  State  constitu- 
tions limiting  strictly  the  power  of  the  legislatures  to 
impose  taxes  or  incur  debts,  and  obliging  them  to  sub- 
mit all  expenditure  beyond  the  assigned  limits  to  a 
direct  popular  vote. 

This  is,  however,  only  a  small  part  of  the  legislation 
which  is  now  carried  by  direct  popular  vote.  Conven- 
tions summoned  for  the  purpose  of  amending  the  State 
constitutions  have  taken  the  largest  possible  view  of 
their  powers  :  they  have  laid  down  rules  relating  not 
only  to  organic  constitutional  change,  but  to  every  im- 
portant subject  of  legislation,  withdrawing  those  sub- 
jects wholly,  or  partially,  from  the  competency  of  the 
State  legislatures,  and  every  enactment  made  by  these 
conventions  requires  for  its  validity  the  ratification  of 
a  direct  popular  vote. 

This  movement  is  but  little  known  in  England,  and 
although  I  have  already  referred  to  it  in  another  con- 


282  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  in. 

nection,  it  is  sufficiently  important  to  warrant  some 
repetition.  In  England,  a  large  class  of  politicians  are 
now  preaching  a  multiplication  of  small  democratic 
local  legislatures  as  the  true  efflorescence  and  perfec- 
tion of  democracy.  In  America,  no  fact  is  more  clearly 
established  than  that  such  legislatures  almost  invari- 
ably fall  into  the  hands  of  caucuses,  wirepullers,  and 
professional  politicians,  and  become  centres  of  jobbing 
and  corruption.  One  of  the  main  tasks  of  the  best 
American  politicians  has,  of  late  years,  been  to  with- 
draw gradually  the  greater  part  of  legislation  from  the 
influence  of  these  bodies,  and  to  entrust  it  to  conven- 
tions specially  elected  for  a  special  purpose,  and  em- 
powered to  pass  particular  laws,  subject  to  direct 
ratification  by  a  popular  vote.  I  can  here  hardly  do 
better  than  to  quote  at  some  length  the  American 
writer  who  has  recently  treated  this  subject  with  the 
fullest  knowledge  and  detail.  '  It  is  very  usual/  writes 
Mr.  Oberholtzer,  '  for  conventions  in  late  years,  at  the 
time  of  submitting  constitutions,  to  submit  special 
articles  or  sections  of  articles  for  separate  consideration 
by  the  people.  These  pertain  to  subjects  upon  which 
there  is  likely  to  be  much  public  feeling.  .  .  .  Sub- 
jects so  treated  by  the  conventions  have  been  slavery, 
woman's  suffrage,  the  prohibition  of  the  liquor  traffic, 
the  location  of  state  capitals,  &c.  .  .  .  There  has  been 
within  recent  times  a  radical  change  in  our  ideas  in 
regard  to  State  constitutions,  and  our  conceptions  as  to 
what  matters  are  suitable  for  a  place  in  these  instru- 
ments. At  the  beginning  they  were,  as  constitutions 
are  supposed  to  be,  statements  of  the  fundamentals 
of  government.  .  .  .  Now,  however,  very  different 
constitutional  standards  obtain,  and  in  the  States  of 
every  section  of  the  country  the  same  tendency  is 
visible,  until  we  have  to-day  come  to  a  point  when  our 


CH.  III.  THE  REFERENDUM  IN  AMERICA  283 

State  constitutions  are  nothing  short  of  codes  of  laws 
giving  instruction  to  the  Legislature  and  the  other 
agents  of  Government  on  nearly  every  subject  of  gene- 
ral public  concern,  and  often  stating  the  methods 
which  shall  be  used  in  legislating,  if  not,  indeed,  actu- 
ally legislating,  on  local  questions.  .  .  .  The  constitu- 
tions have  been  the  repositories  for  much  of  the 
legislation  which  before  was  left  to  be  enacted  by  the 
legislatures." 

This  writer  then  proceeds  to  show  how  the  State 
constitutions  as  amended  by  the  conventions  now  make 
pamphlets  of  from  fifty  to  seventy-five  pages  long,  in- 
cluding almost  all  matters  of  education,  taxation, 
expenditure,  and  local  administration ;  the  organisa- 
tion and  regulation  of  the  railroads,  of  the  militia,  of 
the  trade  in  drink,  of  the  penal  and  reformatory  in- 
stitutions ;  clauses  prohibiting  lotteries,  prize  fights, 
or  duels,  establishing  a  legal  day's  work,  even  defining 
the  relations  of  husbands  and  wives,  and  debtors  and 
creditors. 

All  these  subjects  are  withdrawn  from  the  province 
of  the  State  legislature,  and  are  dealt  with  by  conven- 
tions ratified  by  a  direct  popular  vote.  '  Indeed,'  con- 
tinues our  writer,  '  there  are  now  few  matters  which 
are  subjects  for  legislation  at  all  that,  according  to  the 
new  conception  of  a  constitution,  may  not  be  dealt  with 
by  the  conventions.  It  is  only  after  considering  the 
nature  of  this  new  conception  that  the  Referendum  as 
exemplified  in  America  is  seen  to  have  its  closest  like- 
ness to  the  institution  as  it  exists  to-day  in  Switzerland.' 

'  Side  by  side  with  this  movement  to  make  codes  of 
laws  of  our  constitutions,  and  to  restrict  in  many  ways 


'  Oberholtzer,  The  Referendum  in  America^  pp.  38-44  (Philadel- 
phia, 1893). 


284  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  iil. 

the  powers  of  the  State  legislatures,  has  grown  up  a 
movement  tending  directly  to  the  almost  entire  aboli- 
tion of  these  bodies.  In  nearly  all  the  States,  by  the 
development  of  the  last  few  years,  the  conventions 
have  substituted  biennial  for  annual  legislative  ses- 
sions. These  sessions,  now  being  held  only  half  as 
often,  are  further  limited  so  that  they  may  not  extend 
over  more  than  a  certain  number  of  days.  .  .  .  Those 
States  which  still  retain  the  system  of  annual  sessions 
— as,  for  instance.  New  York  and  New  Jersey — con- 
stantly find  cause  for  dissatisfaction,  and  the  feeling  of 
distrust  for  these  bodies  is  taking  deeper  hold  of  the 
people  every  year.  The  feeling,  indeed,  has  reached  a 
conviction  nearly  everywhere  that  the  powers  of  the 
legislatures  should  be  still  further  curtailed,  and  in 
but  one  State — Georgia — has  there  been  shown  any  in- 
clination to  return  to  original  principles." 

'  With  the  change  in  the  character  of  the  constitu- 
tions, has  of  necessity  come  a  change  in  the  character 
of  constitutional  amendments.  Statute  legislation,  of 
late  years,  has  been  more  and  more  disguised  in  these 
amendments,  and  sent  to  the  Referendum.  No  better 
evidence  of  this  is  to  be  found  than  in  the  frequency 
of  amendments  to  prohibit  the  manufacture  and  tralfic 
in  intoxicating  liquors,  a  subject  as  far  removed  as  any 
well  could  be  from  the  original  idea  as  to  a  proper 
matter  for  treatment  in  a  constitution.  Of  these 
elections,  in  nine  years  there  were  nineteen,  begin- 
ning with  Kansas,  Nov.  2,  1880,  and  closing  with 
Connecticut,  Oct.  7,  1889.' ' 

These  passages  are,   I  think,   very  significant,   as 


'  Oberholtzer,  The  Referendum  on  Direct  Legislation  by  the 
in  America^  pp.  45-46.  See,  People,  The  American  Com,' 
too,  the  chapter  of  Mr.  Bryce      monwealth,,  ii.  67-82. 


CH.  in.  THE  REFERENDUM  285 

showing  certain  tendencies  of  democracy  which  are 
as  yet  little  recognised  in  England,  but  which  are 
probably  destined  to  contribute  largely  towards  mould- 
ing the  governments  of  the  future.  I  must  refer  my 
reader  to  the  curious  work  which  I  am  citing  for 
detailed  evidence  of  the  many  instances  in  which,  in 
different  States  of  the  American  Republic,  local  mea- 
sures about  taxation  and  debt ;  changes  in  the  State 
territorial  boundaries,  jurisdiction,  or  municipal  ar- 
rangements, or  in  the  suffrage,  the  system  of  repre- 
sentation, or  the  liquor  laws,  have  been  settled  by  a  direct 
popular  vote  of  the  same  character  as  the  Swiss  Ee- 
ferendum.  This  system  appears  to  have  almost  wholly 
arisen  in  America  since  1850,^  and  it  has  grown  rapidly 
in  public  favour.  It  has  been  the  subject  of  many, 
and  sometimes  conflicting,  decisions  in  the  law  courts, 
but  in  the  great  majority  of  States  it  has  obtained  a 
firm  legal  footing,  and  it  is  transforming  the  whole 
character  of  State  government. 

It  is  not  surprising  that  the  Referendum  is  now  begin- 
ning seriously  to  occupy  those  political  thinkers  who  can 
look  beyond  the  contests  of  the  hour  and  the  immediate 
interests  of  a  party.  Laveleye  has  devoted  much  atten- 
tion to  it,'  and  it  was  much  discussed  in  Belgium  dur- 
ing the  recent  democratic  revision  of  the  Constitution. 
It  was  proposed,  as  a  safeguard  against  the  dangers  to 
be  feared  from  that  great  and  sudden  change,  that  the 
King  should  possess  the  power  of  submitting  measures 
which  had  passed  through  the  Chambers  to  a  direct 
popular  vote  in  the  form  of  a  Referendum.  The  pro- 
posal was  (as  I  think,  unfortunately)  defeated,  but 
there  have  been  several  minor  indications  of  its  growing 


>  Oberholtzer,  p.  105.  merit  dans    la  Democratic,   u. 

» Laveleye,      Le     Gouverne-      169-70. 


286  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  hi. 

popularity.  The  Eeferendum  has,  in  more  than  one 
case,  been  employed  in  Belgium  in  questions  of  muni- 
cipal government.  The  vote  which  is  required  in 
England  for  the  establishment  in  any  borough  of  a  free 
library  supported  by  the  rates,  and  the  system  of  local 
option  so  strenuously  advocated  by  many  temperance 
reformers,  and  which  a  growing  party  desires  to  apply 
to  the  hours  of  labour  in  different  trades,  belong  to  this 
category.  The  Referendum  now  occupies  a  prominent 
place  in  the  programme  of  the  Labour  party  in  Aus- 
tralia, and  in  most  of  the  Socialist  programmes  in 
Europe,  while  its  incorporation  in  the  British  Consti- 
tution has  of  late  years  found  several  advocates  of  a 
very  different  order  of  opinion,  and  has  been  supported 
by  the  brilliant  pen  and  by  the  great  authority  of  Pro- 
fessor Dicey.' 

It  is  a  question  which  is  indeed  well  worthy  of  seri- 
ous consideration.  If  such  a  system  could  be  made  to 
work,  it  would  almost  certainly  do  something  to  cor- 
rect, by  an  eminently  democratic  method,  democratic 
evils  that  are  threatening  grave  calamities  to  the  Em- 
pire. It  would  make  it  possible  to  introduce  into 
England  that  distinction  between  constitutional  ques- 
tions and  ordinary  legislation  which  in  America  and  in 
nearly  all  Continental  countries  not  only  exists,  but  is 
maintained  and  fortified  by  the  most  stringent  pro- 
visions. In  the  days  when  the  balance  of  power  be- 
tween the  different  elements  in  the  Constitution  was 
still  unimpaired,  when  the  strongly  organised  conser- 
vative influences  of  class  and  property  opposed  an 


'  See  an  admirable  article  by  been  also  ably  discussed  in  the 

Professor  Dicey  on  tliis  subject  National  Review  for  February, 

in  the    Contemporary    Review^  March»  and  April  1894. 
April   1890.     The   subject    has 


CH.  iiL  THE  REFERENDUM  287 

insuperable  barrier  to  revolutionary  change,  such  a 
distinction  might  be  safely  dispensed  with.  In  the 
conditions  of  the  present  day,  no  serious  thinker  can 
fail  to  perceive  the  enormous  danger  of  placing  the 
essential  elements  of  the  Constitution  at  the  mercy^  of 
a  simple  majority  of  a  single  Parliament,  a  majority, 
perhaps,  composed  of  heterogeneous  and  discordant 
fractions,  combined  for  a  party  purpose,  and  not  larger 
than  is  required  to  pass  a  Bill  for  regulating  music- 
halls  or  protecting  sea-birds'  eggs. 

The  Keferendum,  in  its  first  and  most  universal  ap- 
plication, is  intended  to  prevent  this  evil  by  making  it 
impossible  to  carry  constitutional  changes  without  the 
direct  and  deliberate  assent  of  the  people.  It  would  also 
have  the  immense  advantage  of  disentangling  issues, 
separating  one  great  question  from  the  many  minor 
questions  with  which  it  may  be  mixed.  Confused  or 
blended  issues  are  among  the  gravest  political  dangers 
of  our  time.  Eevolutionary  and  predatory  measures 
are  much  less  likely  to  be  carried  on  their  merits  than 
because  their  proposers  have  obtained  a  majority  by 
joining  with  them  a  sufficient  number  of  other  mea- 
sures appealing  to  different  sections  of  the  electorate. 
With  the  multiplication  of  groups  this  evil  is  con- 
stantly increasing,  and  it  is  in  this  direction  that  many 
dangerous  politicians  are  mainly  working.  In  the 
House  of  Commons,  a  measure  may  often  be  carried 
which  would  never  have  had  a  chance  of  success  if  the 
members  could  vote  on  their  own  conviction  of  its 
merits  ;  if  they  could  vote  by  ballot ;  if  they  could 
vote  as  they  thought  best,  without  destroying  a  minis- 
try, or  endangering  some  wholly  different  measure 
which  stood  lower  down  in  the  ministerial  programme. 
Motives  of  the  same  kind,  absolutely  distinct  from  an 
approval  or  disapproval  of  one  great  measure,  govern  the 


288  DEMOCRACY  AND   LIBERTY  en.  iii. 

votes  of  the  electorate,  and  largely  determine  the  course 
of  parties  and  legislation.  It  would  be  a  great  gain  to 
English  politics  if  a  capital  question  could  be  decided 
by  the  electorate  on  its  own  merits,  on  a  direct  and  Sim- 
pis'  issue.  If  the  nation  is  moving  towards  revolution, 
it  should  at  least  do  so  with  its  eyes  open,  and  with  a 
clear  and  deliberate  intention. 

It  would  probably  be  found  that  such  a  vote  would 
prove  the  most  powerful  bulwark  against  violent  and 
dishonest  change.  It  would  bring  into  action  the 
opinion  of  the  great  silent  classes  of  the  community, 
and  reduce  to  their  true  proportions  many  movements 
to  which  party  combinations  or  noisy  agitations  have 
given  a  wholly  factitious  prominence.  It  might  restore 
in  another  form  something  of  the  old  balanced  Consti- 
tution, which  has  now  so  nearly  passed  away.  The 
transcendently  important  function  of  the  House  of 
Lords  in  restraining  the  despotism  of  the  Commons, 
and  referring  great  changes  to  the  adjudication  of  the 
people,  is  now  rarely  exercised  and  violently  assailed. 
If,  when  the  House  of  Lords  differed  on  a  question  of 
grave  national  importance  from  the  Commons,  it  pos- 
sessed, or,  if  possessing,  it  would  exercise,  the  power  of 
submitting  that  question  to  the  direct  vote  of  the  elec- 
torate, the  most  skilful  demagogue  would  find  it  difficult 
to  persuade  the  people  that  it  was  trampling  on  their 
fights.  If  the  power  of  insisting  on  a  Referendum 
was  placed,  as  in  Switzerland,  in  the  hands  of  a  large 
body  of  voters,  it  would  still  form  a  counterpoise  and 
a  check  of  the  most  important  kind. 

It  is  contended  for  it  that  it  would  not  only  extri- 
cate one  capital  measure  from  the  crowd  of  minor 
measures  with  which  it  is  associated,  but  would  also 
lift  it  above  the  dominion  of  party,  and  thus  greatly 
increase  the  probability  of  its  representing  the  genuine 


OH.  III.  THE  REFERENDUM  289 

wishes  of  the  electorate.  It  would  enable  the  nation 
to  reject  a  measure  which  it  dislikes,  without  destroy- 
ing a  ministry  of  which  it  approves.  The  vote  would 
not  be  on  the  general  policy  of  the  Government.  It 
would  be  exclusively  on  the  merits  of  a  single  measure, 
and  it  would  leave  the  ministerial  majority  in  the 
House  of  Commons  unchanged.  Few  persons  will 
doubt  that  a  measure  brought  in  this  manner  before 
the  electorate  would  be  voted  on  with  a  much  fuller 
consideration  and  a  much  more  serious  sense  of  re- 
sponsibility than  if  it  came  before  them  mixed  up  with 
a  crowd  of  other  measures,  and  inseparably  connected 
with  a  party  issue.  At  a  general  election,  the  great 
majority  of  votes  are  given  for  a  party  or  a  statesman, 
and  the  real  question  is,  which  side  should  rule  the 
country.  By  the  Eeferendum  the  electorate  can  give 
its  deliberate  opinion,  not  upon  men,  but  upon  mea- 
sures, and  can  reject  a  measure  without  placing  the 
Government  of  the  country  into  other  hands. 

It  is  often  said  that  there  are  large  classes  of  ques- 
tions on  which  such  a  popular  opinion  could  be  of 
little  worth.  To  this  I  have  no  difficulty  in  subscrib- 
ing. It  is  very  doubtful  whether  a  really  popular  vote 
would  have  ratified  the  Toleration  Act  in  the  seven- 
teenth century,  or  the  abolition  of  the  capital  punish- 
ment of  witches  in  the  eighteenth  century,  or  Catholic 
Emancipation  in  the  nineteenth  century,  or  a  crowd  of 
other  measures  that  might  be  enumerated.  It  is  now, 
however,  too  late  to  urge  such  an  argument.  De- 
mocracy has  been  crowned  king.  The  voice  of  the 
multitude  is  the  ultimate  court  of  appeal,  and  the  right 
of  independent  judgment,  which  was  once  claimed  for 
the  members  of  Parliament,  is  now  almost  wholly  dis- 
carded. If  the  electorate  is  to  judge  policies,  it  is 
surely  less  likely  to  err  if  it  judges  them  on  a  clear 
yoL.  I.  19 


290  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ca  m. 

and  distinct  issue.  In  such  a  case  it  is  most  likely  to 
act  independently,  and  not  at  the  dictation  of  party 
wirepullers.  It  is  to  be  remembered,  too,  that  the 
Keferendum  is  not  intended  as  a  substitute  for  repre- 
sentative government.  All  the  advantages  of  parlia- 
mentary debate  would  still  remain.  Policies  would  not 
be  thrown  before  the  electorate  in  a  crude,  undigested, 
undeveloped  state.  All  measures  would  still  pass 
through  Parliament,  and  the  great  majority  would  be 
finally  decided  by  Parliament.  It  would  only  be  in  a 
few  cases,  after  a  measure  had  been  thoroughly  dis- 
cussed in  all  its  bearings,  after  the  two  Houses  had 
given  their  judgment,  that  the  nation  would  be  called 
to  adjudicate.  The  Eeferendum  would  be  an  appeal 
from  a  party  majority,  probably  made  up  of  discordant 
groups,  to  the  genuine  opinion  of  the  country.  It 
would  be  an  appeal  on  a  question  which  had  been 
thoroughly  examined,  and  on  which  the  nation  had 
every  means  of  arriving  at  a  conclusion.  It  would  be 
a  clear  and  decisive  verdict  on  a  matter  on  which  the 
two  branches  of  the  Legislature  had  differed. 

It  is  argued  against  the  Eeferendum  that  many  of 
the  differences  between  the  two  Houses  are  differences 
not  of  principle,  but  of  detail.  A  Bill  is  before  Parlia- 
ment on  the  general  policy  of  which  both  parties  and 
both  Houses  are  agreed,  but  one  clause  or  amendment, 
dealing  with  a  subsidiary  part,  produces  an  irreconcila- 
ble difference.  The  popular  vote,  it  has  been  said, 
would  be  an  instrument  wholly  unfit  to  discriminate 
between  the  portion  of  a  Bill  that  should  be  preserved 
and  the  part  that  should  be  rejected.  I  do  not,  how- 
ever, think  that  there  is  much  weight  in  this  argu- 
ment. After  all  discussions  of  details,  a  Bill,  if  it  is 
to  become  law,  must  now  pass  through  its  third  read- 
ing, and  be  accepted  or  rejected  as  a  whole  by  a  single 


CH.  in.  THE  REFERENDUM  291 

vote.  All  that  is  proposed  by  the  Referendum  is,  that 
there. should  be  one  more  step  before  its  enactment. 
If  the  House  of  Lords  objected  essentially  to  some  Bill 
which  the  House  of  Commons  had  more  than  once 
adopted,  it  might  pass  that  Bill  with  the  addition  of  a 
clause  providing  that  it  should  not  become  law  until  it 
had  been  ratified  by  a  direct  popular  vote.  If  the  two 
Houses,  agreeing  upon  the  general  merits  of  a  Bill, 
differed  irreconcilably  upon  one  clause,  instead  of  the 
Bill  being  wholly  lost  the  Houses  might  agree  that  it 
should  be  passed  in  one  or  other  form  with  a  similar 
addition.  By  this  simple  method  the  Referendum 
might  be  put  in  action,  and  as  the  appeal  would  be  to 
the  existing  electorate,  no  insuperable  difficulties  of 
machinery  would  be  likely  to  arise. 

Another  objection  is,  that  the  Referendum  would 
have  the  effect  of  lowering  the  authority  of  the  House 
of  Commons,  which  is  now,  in  effect,  the  supreme 
legislative  authority  in  the  Empire.  This  is  undoubt- 
edly true,  and,  in  my  own  judgment,  it  would  be  one 
of  its  great  merits.  The  old  saying  of  Burghley,  that 
'England  never  can  be  ruined  but  by  her  Parliament,' 
was  never  more  true  than  at  the  present  time,  and  the 
uncontrolled,  unbalanced  authority  of  a  single  repre- 
sentative body  constituted  like  our  own  seems  to  me 
one  of  the  gravest  dangers  to  the  Empire.  In  our  age 
we  must  mainly  look  to  democracy  for  a  remedy.  Ac- 
cording to  the  theories  which  now  prevail,  the  House 
of  Commons  has  absolutely  no  right  as  against  its  elec- 
tors, and  it  is  to  the  electors  that  the  Referendum 
would  transfer,  in  a  far  more  efficient  manner  than  at 
present,  the  supreme  authority  in  legislation.  If  the 
House  of  Commons  moves  during  the  next  quarter  of 
a  century  as  rapidly  on  the  path  of  discredit  as  it  has 
done  during  the  quarter  of  a  century  that  has  passed. 


292  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  ni. 

it  is  not  likely  that  many  voices  would  be  found  to 
echo  this  objection. 

The  foregoing  arguments  seem  to  me,  at  least,  to 
show  that  the  Referendum  is  not  a  question  to  be 
lightly  dismissed.  It  might  furnish  a  remedy  for  great 
and  growing  evils  which  it  is  very  difficult  to  cure,  and 
it  would  do  so  in  a  way  which  is  in  full  accordance  with 
the  democratic  spirit  of  the  time.  Further  than  this 
I  should  not  venture  to  go.  To  carry  out  successfully 
a  scheme  so  widely  diverging  from  old  English  modes 
of  thought,  to  foresee  and  guard  against  the  possible 
evils  connected  with  it,  would  need  the  experience 
and  discussion  of  many  minds.  It  is  obviously  much 
easier  to  apply  such  a  system  to  a  small  and  sparse 
population  like  that  of  Switzerland,  than  to  a  dense 
population  like  our  own  ;  and  the  ascendency  of  party 
has  so  long  been  supreme  in  England  that  it  is  not 
likely  that  the  Referendum  could  withdraw  questions 
wholly  from  its  empire.  It  is  probable  that  the  vote 
would  often  be  taken  under  the  glamour  of  a  great 
name  ;  its  result  would  be  looked  upon  as  a  party 
triumph,  and  for  some  time  it  would  not  be  easy  to 
persuade  the  British  public  that  a  ministry  should  re- 
main in  power  when  its  capital  measure  had  been  de- 
feated. The  experience,  however,  of  Switzerland  and 
America  shows  that,  when  the  Referendum  takes  root 
in  a  country,  it  takes  political  questions,  to  an  immense 
degree,  out  of  the  hands  of  wirepullers,  and  makes  it 
possible  to  decide  them  mainly,  though  perhaps  not 
wholly,  on  their  merits,  without  producing  a  change  of 
government  or  of  party  predominance. 

Difficulties  arising  from  both  Houses  of  Parliament 
would,  no  doubt,  have  to  be  encountered.  The  House 
of  Commons  would  naturally  dislike  to  surrender  any 
part  of  its  power,  even  into  the  hands  of  its  masters. 


CH.  in.  THE  REFERENDUM  293 

The  House  of  Lords,  as  at  present  constituted,  is 
viewed  with  such  suspicion  by  large  classes  that  they 
would  object  to  a  measure  which  might  increase  its 
power,  even  though  that  increase  was  wholly  derived 
from  association  with  the  most  extreme  form  of  demo- 
cracy. The  great  and  pressing  question  of  the  reform 
of  the  Upper  House  would  probably  have  to  precede 
the  adoption  of  the  Referendum. 

It  seems  to  me  also  clear,  that  in  a  country  like  Eng- 
land the  Eeferendum  could  never  become  an  habitual 
agent  in  legislation.  Perpetual  popular  votes  would  be 
an  intolerable  nuisance.  To  foreign  politics  the  Eefe- 
rendum would  be  very  inapplicable,  and  in  home  poli- 
tics it  ought  only  to  be  employed  on  rare  and  grave 
occasions.  It  should  be  restricted  to  constitutional 
questions  altering  the  disposition  of  power  in  the  State, 
with,  perhaps,  the  addition  of  important  questions  on 
which,  during  more  than  one  Parliament,  the  two 
Houses  of  the  Legislature  had  differed. 

Within  these  limits  it  appears  to  me  full  of  promise, 
and  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  political  thinkers  may  keep 
their  minds  open  upon  the  subject.  For  some  con- 
siderable time  to  come  all  questions  are  likely  to  be  sub- 
mitted to  the  adjudication  of  the  greatest  number,  and 
statesmen  must  accept  the  fact,  and  endeavour  to  make 
it  as  little  dangerous  as  possible.  It  has  been  the 
opinion  of  some  of  the  ablest  and  most  successful  po- 
liticians of  our  time  that,  by  adopting  a  very  low 
suffrage,  it  would  be  possible  to  penetrate  below  the 
region  where  crotchets  and  experiments  and  crude  UtQ- 
pias  and  habitual  restlessness  prevail,  and  to  reach  the 
strong,  settled  habits,  the  enduring  tendencies,  the 
deep  conservative  instincts  of  the  nation.  Such  an 
idea  was  evidently  present  in  the  minds  both  of  Louis 
Napoleon  and  of  Lord  Beaconsfield,  and  it  probably 


294  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  in. 

largely  influenced  the  great  statesman  who  based  the 
German  Constitution  on  universal  suffrage.  How  far 
it  may  be  true  I  do  not  here  discuss.  It  is  probable 
that  the  recent  turn  in  English  politics  has  added  con- 
siderably to  the  number  of  those  who  believe  in  it.  It 
seems  to  me,  at  least,  certain  that  popular  opinion  is 
likely  to  be  least  dangerous  if  it  is  an  unsophisticated 
opinion  on  a  direct  issue,  as  far  as  possible  uninfluenced 
by  agitators  and  professional  politicians.  It  is  very  pos- 
sible that  its  tendencies  might  be  towards  extreme  Con- 
servatism ;  but  the  pendulum  has  moved  so  long  and 
so  violently  in  the  opposite  direction  that  a  period  of 
pause,  or  even  of  reaction,  might  not  appear  an  evil. 

The  welcome  the  reader  will  extend  to  such  consi- 
derations will  depend  largely  upon  his  view  of  the  ex- 
isting state  of  the  Constitution.  If  he  believes  that 
parliamentary  government  in  its  present  form  is  firmly 
established,  working  well,  and  likely  to  endure,  he  will 
naturally  object  to  any  change  which  would  alter  fun- 
damentally the  centre  of  power.  If  he  believes  that 
some  of  the  most  essential  springs  of  the  British  Con- 
stitution have  been  fatally  weakened,  and  that  our 
system  of  government  is  undergoing  a  perilous  process 
of  disintegration,  transformation,  and  deterioration,  he 
will  be  inclined  to  look  with  more  favour  on  possible 
remedies,  even  though  they  be  very  remote  from  the 
national  habits  and  traditions. 

Another  method  by  which  the  evils  of  a  decaying 
parliamentary  system  may  be  in  some  degree  mitigated 
is  by  the  extension  of  the  powers  of  committees.  The 
only  possible  manner  in  which  a  large  assembly  of  men 
can  directly  and  efficiently  discharge  much  business  is 
by  the  strict  organisation  of  parties,  which  throws  the 
whole  initiation  and  direction  into  a  few  competent 
hands.     But  under  the  best  organisation  a  large  as- 


CH.  ni.  AMERICAN  COMMITTEES  295 

sembly  is  unfit  for  the  investigation  of  details,  and 
when  the  discipline  of  Parliament  and  of  parties  gives 
way  its  incapacity  becomes  very  manifest.  In  the 
United  States,  as  is  well  known,  congressional,  or,  as 
we  should  say,  parliamentary,  legislation  is  almost 
entirely  in  the  hands  of  committees.  Fifty  or  sixty 
committees  of  the  House  of  Representatives,  and  a 
somewhat  smaller  number  of  committees  of  the  Senate, 
are  appointed  at  the  beginning  of  every  Congress. 
Each  of  them  usually  consists  of  about  eleven  mem- 
bers ;  they  sit  for  two  years,  and  they  are  entrusted 
with  unlimited  powers  of  curtailing,  altering,  or  ex- 
tending the  Bills  that  come  before  them.  They  do  not 
receive  those  Bills  after  discussion  in  the  Chambers. 
Both  the  first  and  second  readings  are  granted  as  a 
matter  of  course,  and  it  is  in  the  committees  that  Bills 
receive  their  full  investigation  and  definite  shape. 
The  deliberations  there  are  usually  secret,  and  nearly 
always  unreported.  The  great  majority  of  the  Bills  are 
stifled  in  committee,  either  by  long  postponement  or 
by  unfavourable  reports.  Those  which  are  favourably 
reported  have  to  receive  the  sanction  of  Congress ;  but 
they  are  usually  only  discussed  in  the  shortest  and 
most  cursory  manner,  and  in  the  vast  majority  of  cases 
the  task  of  framing  legislation  lies  in  reality,  not  with 
the  Chambers,  but  with  these  small  delegated  bodies. 
Mr.  Bryce  has  described  the  process  in  detail,  and  he 
observes  that  '  the  House  has  become  not  so  much  a 
legislative  assembly  as  a  huge  panel  from  which  com- 
mittees are  selected.'^ 


'  Since     Mr.    Bryce's    book  of  conducting  business  in  legis- 

appeared,   an    American  politi-  lative  bodies,  which  has  become 

cian,  discussing  the   decline  of  general,    must    also    be    taken 

oratory   in  the   United   States,  into   account.      Legislation    by 

says  :  '  A  change  in  the  method  committees,  instead   of  by  the 


296  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  in. 

The  system  is  extremely  unlike  our  own.  The  mi- 
nisters do  not  sit  in  Congress,  and  therefore  cannot 
guide  it ;  and  they  do  not  depend  for  their  tenure  of 
office  upon  its  approval.  The  Speaker,  who  in  Eng- 
land represents  the  most  absolute  impartiality,  is,  in 
America,  the  most  powerful  of  party  leaders,  for  he 
nominates  the  members  of  the  committees,  by  whom 
legislation  is  virtually  made.  As  Mr.  Bryce  observes. 
Congress  loses  its  unity  and  much  of  its  importance, 
and  parliamentary  oratory  dwindles  into  insignificance. 
The  public,  who  know  that  the  real  business  of  legisla- 
tion is  transacted  in  small  secret  bodies,  come  to  look 
on  Congress  and  its  proceedings  with  great  indiffer- 
ence ;  and  legislation  being  mainly  the  product  of  a 
number  of  small  and  independent  bodies,  is  much 
wanting  in  cohesion  and  harmony. 

If  these  were  the  only  consequences,  they  might 
readily  be  accepted.  Some  of  them,  indeed,  would 
appear  to  many  of  us  positive  advantages.     Unfortu- 


whole  body,   is  the  prevailing  committee-room,  and  puts  it  in 

method  of  the  present  day.    Al-  charge  of  another  committee  of 

most  the    entire    consideration  three,  to  determine  beforehand 

and  shaping  of  the  most  impor-  when  it  shall  be  considered  by 

tant  measures  which  now  come  the  bodies  who  are  to  pass  upon 

before  legislative  bodies  is  done  it,  for  how  long  a  time,  and  in 

in    the   committee-room  before  what  shape,  and  by  what  num- 

they   are   reported    for  action,  ber  of  supporters  and  opponents, 

Little  more  than  ratification  of  to  be  selected  as  prize  comba- 

committee  work  remains  after  a  tants  are  selected  by  the  oppo- 

measure  leaves  the  committee-  sing   sides   in   a  ring,  and   the 

room.      There   are   exceptions,  hour  by   the  clock  when  such 

but  this   is   the  rule.      Conse-  consideration  shall  cease — does 

quently,  the  opportunity  for  de-  any   one    conceive    it  possible 

bate  is  greatly  abridged,  and  for  that    anything    deserving    the 

extended  oration  almost  entirely  name  of  oratory  or   eloquence 

cut  off.  .  .  .  Add  to  this  modern  can  be  the  outcome  of  such   a 

method  that  other  invention  of  contest  ?  '     (The   Hon.    Henry 

recent  years,   which  takes   up  Dawes  in  The  Forurn^  October 

legislation  thus  prepared  in  the  1894,  p.  153). 


CH.  in.  ENGLISH  COMMITTEES  297 

nately,  the  corruption,  log-rolling,  and  intrigue  that 
so  deeply  infect  American  politics  appear  to  be  abun- 
dantly displayed  in  the  work  of  the  committees.^ 

The  system,  however,  is  essentially  different  from  par- 
liamentary government.  It  places  the  task  of  framing 
laws  in  the  hands  of  small  groups  of  shrewd  business 
men,  who  work  without  any  of  the  disturbing  influences 
of  publicity ;  and  it  diminishes,  though  it  certainly 
does  not  destroy,  the  injurious  influence  on  public 
business  of  anarchy  and  deterioration  in  Congress.  In 
France  a  different  system  prevails,  but  most  legisla- 
tion is  practically  done  in  'bureaux,'  or  subdivisions  of 
the  Chamber,  which  are  appointed  for  the  considera- 
tion of  particular  subjects.  In  England  the  action  of 
the  whole  House  is  much  greater ;  but  the  commit- 
tee system  appears  to  be  the  healthiest  part  of  our 
present  parliamentary  system,  and  it  has  been  consider- 
ably extended  by  the  adoption  of  standing  committees 
in  the  House  of  Commons  in  1883,  and  in  the  House 
of  Lords  in  1891. '^  The  committees  are  of  several 
kinds.  There  are  the  select  committees,  which  are 
appointed  by  either  House  for  the  purpose  of  inves- 
tigating complex  subjects,  and  which  have  the  power 
of  calling  witnesses  before  them.  The  new  Stand- 
ing Committees  of  Law  and  Trade,  commonly  called 
grand  committees,  consist  of  from  sixty  to  eighty  mem- 
bers, representing  different  sections  of  the  House,  and 
they  generally  include  Cabinet  ministers.  Various  Bills 
are  referred  to  them  from  the  committee  stage  by  a  pro- 
cess of  devolution,  and  their  divisions  on  disputed  points 
are  duly  recorded.  Besides  these  there  is  the  Commit- 
tee of  Public  Accounts,  which,  with  the  assistance  of 


*  Bryce's  American  Common-         '  May's  Parliamentary   Pro- 
wealth,  i.  204-18.  cedure  (Palgrave's  edition^- 


298  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  cu.  in. 

the  departmental  officials,  exercises  a  close  and  useful 
supervision  over  the  details  of  finance.' 

It  is  probable  that  the  power,  and  perhaps  the  num- 
ber, of  the  committees  will  be  increased,  and  that  in 
this  manner  the  much-impaired  business  capacity  of 
the  House  may  be  considerably  recruited.  The  pro- 
cess of  devolution  is  likely,  in  some  manner  and  under 
some  conditions  and  restrictions,  to  be  extended,  either 
by  special  parliamentary  committees,  or  in  other  ways, 
to  bodies  representing  different  portions  of  the  Empire. 
The  expense  of  carrying  to  London  great  masses  of 
non-political  private  business  which  might  be  as  effi- 
ciently and  much  more  cheaply  settled  at  home,  is  a 
real  and  serious  grievance  ;  and  the  obstruction  to  par- 
liamentary business  caused  by  the  introduction  of  many 
matters  that  ought  never  to  be  brought  before  the 
supreme  legislature  of  an  empire,  is  now  keenly  felt. 
Sooner  or  later  some  change  in  this  system  must  be 
effected,  and  a  much  larger  proportion  of  Irish  and 
Scotch  business  than  at  present  is  likely  to  be  entrusted 
to  bodies  specially  representing  those  countries.  I  do 
not  propose  to  enter  at  large  into  this  question.  The 
two  limitations  that  should  be  observed  are,  I  think, 
sufficiently  obvious.  The  one  is,  that  no  body  should 
be  set  up  which  would  be  likely  to  prove  in  times  of 
danger  a  source  of  weakness  or  division  to  the  Empire. 
The  other  is,  that  Parliament  should  never  so  far  abdi- 
cate its  supreme  duty  of  doing  justice  to  all  sections  of 
the  people  as  to  set  up  any  body  that  is  likely  to  oppress 
or  plunder  any  class.  If  these  two  conditions  are  fully 
and  efficiently  secured,  local  government  may  be  wisely 
and  largely  extended.     There  is,  however,  no  greater 


'  There  is  an  excellent  account  of  the  working  of  these  commit- 
tees in  Sir  R.  Temple's  Life  in  Parliament. 


CH.  in.  VOTES  OP  CENSURE  299 

folly  in  politics  than  to  set  up  a  political  body  without 
considering  the  hands  into  which  it  is  likely  to  fall,  or 
the  spirit  in  which  it  is  likely  to  be  worked. 

One  change  in  the  internal  regulation  of  Parliament 
has  also  been  powerfully  urged  for  the  purpose  of  cor- 
recting the  instability  and  intrigue  which  a  multipli- 
cation of  independent  parliamentary  groups  is  certain 
to  produce.  It  is,  that  a  government  should  not  con- 
sider itself  bound  either  to  resign  or  dissolve  on  ac- 
count of  an  adverse  division  due,  perhaps,  to  a  chance 
or  factious  combination  of  irreconcilable  minorities,  but 
should  retain  office  until  a  formal  vote  of  want  of  con- 
fidence indicates  clearly  the  desire  of  the  House  of 
Commons.  It  does  not,  however,  appear  to  me  that 
this  change  would  be,  on  the  whole,  an  improvement. 
The  fact  that  it  has  never  been  made  in  France,  where 
the  evil  of  instability  in  the  government  arising  from 
the  group  system  in  Parliament  has  attained  its  ex- 
treme limits,  shows  how  difficult  it  would  be  to  implant 
it  in  parliamentary  institutions.  A  defeat  in  the  House 
of  Lords  does  not  overthrow  a  ministry  ;  a  defeat  in 
the  House  of  Commons  on  a  particular  question  may 
be  always  remedied,  if  the  House  desires  it,  by  a  vote 
of  confidence.  If  the  change  we  are  considering  would 
mitigate  the  evil  of  parliamentary  disintegration,  it 
would,  as  it  seems  to  me,  aggravate  the  not  less  serious 
evil  of  the  despotism  of  party  caucuses.  It  continually 
happens  that  a  government,  long  before  the  natural 
duration  of  a  Parliament  has  expired,  loses  the  confi- 
dence of  the  House  of  Commons  and  of  the  countiy, 
and  it  is  very  undesirable  that,  under  these  circum- 
stances, it  should  continue  in  office.  It  is,  however, 
seldom  likely  that  its  majority  would  be  destroyed  by 
a  formal  vote  of  want  of  confidence.  Liberals  would 
hesitate  to  vote  definitely  as  Tories,  or  Tories  as  Li- 


300  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  iii. 

berals,  and  the  pressure  of  party  organisations  would 
override  genuine  opinions.  It  is  on  side-issues  or  in- 
cidental questions  that  the  true  feeling  of.  the  House  is 
most  likely  to  be  displayed  and  a  bad  ministry  defeated. 
After  all  due  weight  has  been  given  to  the  possible 
remedies  that  have  been  considered,  it  still  seems  to  me 
that  the  parliamentary  system,  when  it  rests  on  man- 
hood suffrage,  or  something  closely  approaching  to 
manhood  suffrage,  is  extremely  unlikely  to  be  perma- 
nent. This  was  evidently  the  opinion  of  Tocqueville, 
who  was  strongly  persuaded  that  the  natural  result  of 
democracy  was  a  highly  concentrated,  enervating,  but 
mild  despotism.^  It  is  the  opinion  of  many  of  the 
most  eminent  contemporary  thinkers  in  France  and 
Germany,  and  it  is,  I  think,  steadily  growing  in  Eng- 
land. This  does  not  mean  that  Parliaments  will  cease, 
or  that  a  wide  suffrage  will  be  abolished.  It  means 
that  Parliaments,  if  constructed  on  this  type,  cannot 
permanently  remain  the  supreme  power  among  the  na- 
tions of  the  world.  Sooner  or  later  they  will  sink  by 
their  own  vices  and  inefficiencies  into  a  lower  plane. 
They  will  lose  the  power  of  making  and  unmaking 
ministries,  and  it  will  be  found  absolutely  necessary  to 
establish  some  strong  executive  independently  of  their 
fluctuations.  Very  probably  this  executive  may  be 
established,  as-  in  America  and  under  the  French  Em- 
pire, upon  a  broad  basis  of  an  independent  suffrage. 
Very  possibly  upper  chambers,  constituted  upon  some 
sagacious  plan,  will  again  play  a  great  restraining  and 
directing  part  in  the  government  of  the  world.  Few 
persons  who  have  watched  the  changes  that  have  passed 
over  our  own  House  of  Commons  within  the  last  few 
years  will  either  believe  or  wish  that  in  fifty  years'  time 


•  La  Dimocratie  en  Amerique^  l""*  partie. 


en.  iiL  LOCAL  GOVERNMENT  301 

it  can  exercise  the  power  it  now  does.  It  is  only  too 
probable  that  some  great  catastrophe  or  the  stress  of  a 
great  war  may  accelerate  the  change. 

I  do  not  speak  of  the  modern  extensions  of  local  go- 
vernment in  the  counties  or  towns  as  diminishing  the 
authority  of  democratic  Parliaments.  These  extensions 
have  been  themselves  great  democratic  triumphs,  trans- 
ferring to  bodies  resting  on  a  very  low  suffrage  powers 
which  were  either  in  the  hands  of  persons  nominated 
by  the  Crown,  or  in  the  hands  of  persons  whose  elec- 
tion depended  on  a  high  property  qualification,  and 
especially  on  the  possession  of  landed  property.  The 
preceding  pages  will  have  abundantly  illustrated  the 
dangers  that  are  to  be  feared  from  unchecked  demo- 
cracy in  this  field.  In  England  there  is  a  great  belief 
in  the  educational  value  of  this  kind  of  government. 
It  is  true  that  an  honest,  well-meaning  local  govern- 
ment may  begin  by  making  many  mistakes,  but  will 
soon  acquire  the  habits  of  good  government.  On  the 
other  hand,  if  local  government  falls  into  the  hands  of 
corrupt,  self-seeking,  dishonest  men,  it  will  promote 
quite  other  habits,  and  will  have  very  little  tendency 
to  improve.  Prolonged  continuity  of  jobbing  is  not  an 
education  in  which  good  statesmen  are  likely  to  be 
formed,  and  few  things  have  done  so  much  to  demo- 
ralise American  political  life  as  the  practices  that  pre- 
vail in  municipal  government  and  in  the  management 
of  ^  the  machine.^ 

On  the  whole,  it  can  hardly  be  questioned  that,  in 
spite  of  great  complexities  and  incoherences  of  admi- 
nistration, and  of  many  strange  anomalies,  England 
has  been  for  many  years  singularly  happy  in  her  local 
governments.  The  country  gentlemen  who  chiefly 
managed  her  county  government,  at  least  discharged 
their  task  with  great  integrity,  and  with  a  very  exten- 


302  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  hi. 

sive  and  minute  knowledge  of  the  districts  they  ruled. 
They  had  their  faults,  but  they  were  much  more  nega- 
tive than  positive.  They  did  few  things  which  tliey 
ought  not  to  have  done,  but  they  left  undone  many 
things  which  they  ouglit  to  have  done.  There  was  in 
general  no  corruption  ;  gross  abuses  were  very  rare, 
and  public  money  was,  on  the  whole,  wisely  and  eco- 
nomically expended  ;  but  evils  that  might  have  been 
remedied  were  often  left  untouched,  and  there  was 
much  need  of  a  more  active  reforming  spirit  in  county 
administration. 

Our  town  governments,  also,  since  the  great  Mu- 
nicipal Act  of  1835,  have  been,  on  the  whole,  very 
successful.  They  have  not  fallen  into  the  hands  of 
corrupt  politicians  like  the  greater  number  of  the  mu- 
nicipal governments  in  America  ;  the  statesmen  of  the 
period  of  the  first  Reform  Bill  never  failed  to  maintain 
a  close  connection  between  the  power  of  taxing  and  the 
obligation  of  paying  rates  and  taxes,  and  the  strong 
controlling  influence  they  gave  to  property  in  municipal 
government,  and  in  the  administration  of  the  poor 
laws,  secured  an  honest  employment  of  public  money. 
The  first  and  most  vital  rule  of  all  good  government  is, 
that  those  who  vote  taxes  should  contribute,  to  some 
appreciable  extent,  to  paying  them ;  that  those  who 
are  responsible  for  the  administration  of  affairs  should 
themselves  suffer  from  maladministration.  This  car- 
dinal rule  is,  if  possible,  even  more  applicable  to  local 
than  to  imperial  government.  Imperial  government 
is  largely  concerned  with  wide  political  issues.  Local 
government  is  specially,  and  beyond  all  things,  a  ma- 
chine for  raising  and  employing  money.  In  every 
sound  company  the  directors  must  qualify  for  their 
post  by  being  large  shareholders,  and  the  shareholders 
who  have  the  largest  interest  have  the  greatest  number 


CH.  in.  LOCAL  GOVERNMENT  303 

of  votes.  This  is  the  first  and  most  obvious  rale  for 
obtaining  an  honest  and  frugal  administration  of  money, 
and  the  success  and  purity  of  Englisli  local  government 
have  been  largely  due  to  the  steadiness  with  which  the 
great  statesmen  who  followed  the  Reform  Bill  of  1832 
acted  upon  it. 

It  has  been  reserved  for  the  present  generation  of 
statesmen  to  do'all  that  is  in  their  power  to  destroy  it. 
It  has  come  to  be  regarded  as  a  Liberal  principle  that 
it  is  a  wrong  thing  to  impose  rating  or  property  quali- 
fications on  those  who  vote  rates  and  govern  property. 
Thus,  by  the  Act  of  1894  all  property  qualifications  for 
vestrymen  and  poor-law  guardians  have  been  abolished. 
The  rating  qualification  for  voting  is  no  longer  neces- 
sary. The  ex-oflScio  and  nominated  guardians,  who 
were  always  men  of  large  experience  and  indisputable 
character,  have  been  swept  away  ;  the  obviously  equita- 
ble rule  that  ratepayers  should  have  votes  for  guardians 
in  proportion  to  the  amount  of  their  contributions  has 
been  replaced  by  the  rule  of  one  voter,  one  vote.  The 
old  property  qualifications  for  the  electors  of  district 
boards  have  been  abolished,  and  at  the  same  time  those 
boards  have  acquired  additional  powers  over  different 
kinds  of  property.  With  many  politicians  the  evident 
ideal  of  city  government  is,  that  a  great  owner  of  town 
property,  who  necessarily  pays  the  largest  proportion  of 
the  municipal  taxation,  whose  interests  are  most  indis- 
solubly  associated  with  the  prosperity  of  the  city,  and 
who,  from  his  very  prominence,  is  specially  likely  to 
be  made  the  object  of  predatory  attacks,  should  have  no 
more  voice  than  the  humblest  tenant  on  his  estate  in 
imposing,  regulating,  distributing,  and  applying  muni- 
cipal taxation. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  conceive  a  system  more  cer- 
tain to  lead  to  corruption  and  dishonesty ;  and  other 


304  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  in. 

circumstances  contribute  to  enhance  the  danger.  If 
taxation  were  as  limited  in  its  amount,  and  public 
expenditure  restricted  to  as  few  objects  as  in  the  past 
generation,  it  would  signify  comparatively  little  how 
its  burden  was  distributed.  But  one  of  the  most 
marked  tendencies  of  our  time  is  the  enlargement  of 
the  area  of  State  functions  and  the  amount  of  State 
expenditure.  The  immense  increase  of  local  taxation, 
and  especially  local  debt,  that  has  taken  place  within 
a  very  few  years  has  long  excited  the  alarm  of  the  most 
serious  politicians  in  England.  The  complications  of 
local  taxation  are  so  great  that  it  is  probably  not  pos- 
sible to  obtain  complete  accuracy  on  this  subject,  but 
there  can  be  no  question  of  the  appalling  rapidity  with 
which  the  movement  has  advanced.  In  a  very  useful 
paper  published  under  the  auspices  of  the  Cobden  Club 
in  1882,  it  was  calculated  that  the  local  indebtedness  of 
England  and  Wales  had  risen  between  1872  and  1880 
from  80,000,000?.  to  137,096, 607?.*  In  1891,  it  was 
stated  in  the  House  of  Commons  to  be  195,400,000?. 
In  the  following  year  it  was  stated  that,  in  the  preced- 
ing fifteen  years,  the  national  debt  had  fallen  from 
768,945,757?.  to  689,944,026?.,  but  that  during  the 
same  period  the  municipal  debt  had  risen  from  92,820,- 
100?.  to  198,671,312?.'  There  seems  no  sign  of  this 
tendency  having  spent  its  force,  and  schemes  involving 
vast  increases  of  municipal  expenditure  are  manifestly 
in  the  air.  It  is  at  this  time  that  the  policy  of  sepa- 
rating the  payment  of  taxes  from  the  voting  of  taxes 
is  most  largely  adopted.  Unfortunately,  the  very  ten- 
dencies that  make  it  so  dangerous  increase  its  popu- 


'  Local  Government  and  Tax-  Lord  Wemyss  in  an  Address  on 

ation  of  the   United  Kingdom  Modern   Munidpalism    (1893), 

(Cobden  Club),  p.  480.  p.  11. 

'  See  some  facts  collected  by 


CH.  ixr.      MILITARY  AND  NAVAL  EXPENDITURE  305 

larity,  and  therefore  its  attractiveness  to  politicians, 
whose  great  object  is  to  win  votes  and  tide  over  an 
election. 

The  enormons  increase  which  has  also  taken  place  in 
the  State  taxation  of  nearly  every  civilised  country 
during  the  last  forty-five  years  is  certainly  one  of  the 
most  disquieting  features  of  our  time.  It  is  to  be  at- 
tributed to  several  different  causes.  The  worst  is  that 
gigantic  increase  of  national  debts  and  of  military  ex- 
penditure which  has  taken  place  in  Europe  since  the 
Revolution  of  1848.  National  indebtedness  has  reached 
a  point  that  makes  the  bankruptcy  of  many  nations  an 
almost  inevitable  result  of  any  prolonged  European 
war ;  and  the  immense  burden  of  unproductive  ex- 
penditure that  is  drawn  from  every  nation  for  the  pur- 
pose of  paying  the  national  creditors,  gives  revolutionary 
literature  a  great  part  of  its  plausibility,  and  forms  one 
of  the  strongest  temptations  to  national  dishonesty. 
The  incentive  is  the  stronger  as  most  national  debts  are 
largely  held  by  foreigners,  and  as  there  is  no  interna- 
tional organisation  corresponding  to  a  bankruptcy  court 
for  coercing  or  punishing  a  defaulting  nation.  Of  this 
military  expenditure  it  will  here  be  sufficient  to  say 
that  it  is  far  from  measured  by  the  direct  taxes  which 
are  raised  ;  and  the  withdrawal  of  a  vast  proportion  of 
human  effort  from  productive  employment,  and  the 
enslavement,  during  the  best  part  of  their  lives,  of  a 
vast  proportion  of  the  population  of  Europe,  have 
probably  contributed,  as  much  as  any  other  single 
cause,  to  the  revolutionary  tendencies  of  our  time. 

England  need  not,  I  think,  take  to  herself  much 
blame  in  these  respectsr  If  she  has  not  done  all  that 
she  might  have  done  since  the  great  French  war  to 
diminish  her  debt,  she  has  at  least  done  very  much, 
and  far  more  than  any  other  European  country,  while 
VOL.  I.  ao 


306  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  in. 

her  military  and  naval  expenditure  has  usually  been 
rather  below  than  above  what  is  needed  for  her  abso- 
lute security.  The  growth,  however,  of  this  expendi- 
ture has  been  very  great.  Between  1835  and  1888  it 
is  said  to  have  increased  by  no  less  than  173  per  cent.^ 
This  is,  however,  mainly  due  to  the  gigantic  armaments 
on  the  Continent,  and  to  the  enormous  increase  in  the 
cost  and  the  constant  changes  in  the  type  of  ships  and 
guns.  The  burden  is  a  terrible  one ;  but  every  one  who 
will  look  facts  in  the  face  must  recognise  that  the  ex- 
istence at  each  given  moment  of  an  English  fleet  of  over- 
whelming power  is  the  first  and  most  vital  condition 
of  the  security  of  the  nation.  An  island  Power  which 
cannot  even  support  its  population  with  food  ;  which 
depends  for  its  very  existence  on  a  vast  commerce ; 
which  from  the  vastness  of  its  dominions  and  inte- 
rests is  constantly  liable  to  be  involved  in  dispute  with 
other  Powers,  and  which  presents  peculiar  temptation 
to  an  invader,  could  on  no  other  condition  maintain  her 
independence,  and  it  is  a  healthy  sign  that  English 
public  opinion  realises  the  transcendent  importance  of 
the  fact,  and  has  more  than  once  forced  it  upon  poli- 
ticians who  were  neglecting  it. 

What  may  be  the  final  result  of  this  growing  ex- 
penditure no  man  can  say.  It  is  possible,  and  by  no 
means  improbable,  that  the  increasing  power  of  guns 
and  torpedoes  may  make  large  ships  useless  in  war, 
and  may  again  revolutionise,  and  perhaps  greatly 
cheapen,  naval  war.  It  is  possible,  and  perhaps  proba- 
ble, that  the  means  of  defence  may  obtain  an  over- 
whelming preponderance  over  the  means  of  attack. 
Small  and  poor  nations  which  have  taken  an  honour- 
able part  in  the  naval  history  of  the  past  find  it  im- 


'  Leroy-Beaulieu,  Traite  des  fincmces.^  ii.  168. 


CH.  III.      MILITARY  AND  NAVAL  EXPENDITURE  307 

possible  to  enter  into  serious  competition  with  the 
costly  navies  of  the  present,  and  it  is  probable  that  the 
richest  nations  will,  sooner  or  later,  find  it  impossible 
without  ruin  to  maintain  at  once  the  position  of  a 
first-rate  military  and  a  first-rate  naval  Power.  The 
time  may  come  when  some  great  revolution  of  opinion 
or  some  great  internal  convulsion  may  check  or  re- 
verse the  tendency  of  the  last  half-century,  and  bring 
about  a  great  movement  for  disarmament.  Till  that 
time  arrives  there  can  be  little  hope  of  any  serious 
diminution  of  this  great  branch  of  national  expendi- 
ture. 

I  know  few  things  more  melancholy  or  more  instruc- 
tive than  to  compare  the  present  state  of  Europe  in 
this  respect  with  the  predictions  of  the  Manchester 
school,  and  of  the  writers  who,  within  the  memory  of 
many  of  us,  were  looked  upon  as  the  most  faithful 
representatives  of  advanced  thought.  Some  of  my 
readers  will  doubtless  remember  the  enthusiasm  and 
admiration  with  which,  in  1857,  the  first  volume  of 
Buckleys  great  History  was  welcomed.  In  spite  of 
much  crudeness,  many  shortcomings,  and  great  dog- 
matism, it  was  a  book  well  fitted  to  make  an  epoch  on 
its  subject.  The  vast  horizons  it  opened  ;  the  sweep 
and  boldness  of  its  generalisations  ;  its  admirable  lite- 
rary qualities,  and  the  noble  enthusiasm  for  knowledge, 
for  progress,  and  for  liberty  that  animated  it,  captivated 
and  deeply  influenced  a  whole  generation  of  young 
men.  One  of  the  most  confident  of  Buckle's  predic- 
tions was,  that  the  military  spirit  had  had  its  day ; 
that  the  '  commercial  spirit,'  which  is  now  '  invariably 
pacific,'  would  speedily  reduce  it  to  insignificance ; 
that,  although  it  might  linger  for  a  time  among  the 
most  backward  and  semi-barbarous  nations  of  Europe, 
like  Russia  and  Turkey,  all  the  higher  talent,  all  the 


308  DEMOCRACY   AND  LIBERTY  en.  ni. 

stronger  ambitions,  all  the  force  of  public  opinion  in 
the  civilised  world,  would  be  steadily  against  it. 

The  American  Civil  War,  the  war  of  France  and 
Italy  against  Austria,  the  war  of  Prussia  and  Austria 
against  Denmark,  the  war  of  Prussia  and  Italy  against 
Austria,  the  great  Franco-German  War  of  1870,  speed- 
ily followed,  and  Europe  in  time  of  peace  has  become 
a  gigantic  camp,  supporting  armies  which,  in  their 
magnitude  and  their  perfection,  are  unparalleled  in  the 
history  of  the  world.  It  was  estimated  in  1888  that 
Germany,  Austria,  France^  Italy,  and  Russia,  could 
probably  together  put  in  the  field  more  than  sixteen 
millions  of  soldiers  in  time  of  war,  and  that  their 
united  armies  in  time  of  peace  were  not  less  than 
2,315,000  men.i 

Two  facts  connected  with  this  military  develop- 
ment are  especially  significant.  One  is,  that  the  trad- 
ing and  commercial  spirit  has  now  become  one  of  the 
chief  impulses  towards  territorial  aggrandisement. 
'  Trade,' as  it  has  been  truly  said,  *  follows  the  flag.'' 
With  the  present  system  of  enormous  manufacturing 
production  and  stringent  protective  barriers,  it  has  be- 
come absolutely  necessary  for  a  great  manufacturing 
State  to  secure  for  itself  a  sufficient  market  by  incor- 
porating new  territories  in  its  dominions.  In  hardly 
any  period  of  her  history  has  England  annexed  so 
much  territory  as  in  the  last  half-century,  and  al- 
though many  of  these  annexations  are  due  to  the 
necessity  which  often  compels  a  civilised  power  as  a 
mere  measure  of  police  and  self-defence  to  extend  its 
frontier  into  the  uncivilised  world,  much  also  must  be 
attributed  to  commercial  enterprise. 

England  has  not  been  alone  in  this  respect.     Few 


*  Revue  ds  Droit  International^  xi.  99. 


CH.  iir.  ANNEXATIONS        ,  309 

more  curious  spectacles  have  been  exhibited  in  the  pre- 
sent century  than  that  of  the  chief  civilised  nations  of 
Europe  dividing  among  themselves  the  African  conti- 
nent without  even  a  shadow  or  pretext  of  right.  Ex- 
perience has  already  shown  how  easily  these  vague  and 
ill-defined  boundaries  may  become  a  new  cause  of 
European  quarrels,  and  how  often,  in  remote  African 
jungles  or  forests,  negroes  armed  with  European  guns 
may  inflict  defeats  on  European  soldiers  which  will  be- 
come the  cause  of  costly  and  difficult  wars. 

Another  very  remarkable  fact  has  been  the  growing 
feeling  in  the  most  civilised  portions  of  Europe  in 
favour  of  universal  military  service.  Not  many  years 
ago  it  would  scarcely  have  found  a  conspicuous  defen- 
der, except  perhaps  Carlyle,  outside  purely  military 
circles  ;  but  no  competent  judge  can  fail  to  observe  the 
change  which  has  of  late  years  taken  place.  The  system 
has  now  struck  a  deep  root  in  the  habits  of  Continental 
life,  and  in  the  eyes  of  a  considerable  and  able  school 
it  is  rather  a  positive  good  than  a  necessary  evil. 

Its  defenders  contend,  in  the  first  place,  that  these 
gigantic  armies  make  rather  for  peace  than  for  war. 
The  tremendous  force  of  the  weapon,  the  extreme 
difficulty  of  managing  it ;  the  uncertainty  that  more 
than  ever  hangs  over  the  issue  of  a  struggle ;  the 
complete  paralysis  of  all  industrial  life  that  must  now 
accompany  a  great  war,  and  the  utter  ruin  that  may 
follow  defeat,  impose  a  severe  restraint  on  the  most 
ambitious  statesman  and  the  most  excited  population  ; 
while  vast  citizen  armies,  which  must  be  dragged  from 
domestic  life  and  peaceful  industry  to  the  battlefield, 
will  never  be  pervaded  with  the  desire  for  war  that 
animates  purely  professional  soldiers.  I  have  heard, 
indeed,  one  of  the  most  competent  judges  of  the  politi- 
cal and  military  state  of  Europe  predict  that  the  most 


310  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  hi. 

dangerous  period  to  European  peace  will  be  that  which 
follows  a  disarmament,  reducing  the  armies  of  the  rival 
Powers  to  moderate  and  manageable  dimensions. 

But,  in  addition  to  this  consideration,  a  strong  con- 
viction has  grown  up  of  the  moral  and  educational 
value  of  military  discipline.  It  is  urged  that,  in  an 
age  when  many  things  contribute  to  weaken  the  na- 
tional fibre  and  produce  in  large  classes  a  languid, 
epicurean,  semi-detached  cosmopolitanism,  universal 
service  tends  strongly  to  weld  nations  together,  to 
strengthen  the  patriotic  feeling,  to  form  a  high  stan- 
dard of  civic  duty  and  of  self-sacrificing  courage,  to 
inspire  the  masses  of  the  population  with  the  kind  and 
the  intensity  of  enthusiasm  that  is  most  conducive  to 
the  greatness  of  nations.  It  carries  the  idea  and  sen- 
timent of  nationhood  to  multitudes  whose  thoughts 
would  otherwise  have  never  travelled  beyond  the  narroAV 
circle  of  daily  wants  or  of  village  interests.  The  effect 
of  universal  service  in  Italy  in  civilising  half-barba- 
rous populations,  in  replacing  old  provincial  jealousies 
and  prejudices  by  the  sentiment  of  a  common  national- 
ity, has  been  abundantly  displayed.  In  some  cases  a 
measure  of  ordinary  education  is  now  combined  with 
military  service,  and  the  special  education  which  disci- 
pline in  itself  produces  is,  it  is  contended,  peculiarly 
needed  in  our  day.  '  The  true  beginning  of  wisdom,' 
a  wise  old  Hebrew  writer  has  said,  '  is  the  desire  of 
discipline,' '  and  it  is  probably  on  this  side  that  modern 
education  is  most  defective.  Military  service  at  least 
produces  habits  of  order,  cleanliness,  punctuality,  obe- 
dience, and  respect  for  authority,  and,  unlike  most 
forms  of  popular  education,  it  acts  powerfully  on  the 
character  and  on  the  will.     A  few  years  spent  in  this 


'  Wisdom  of  Solomon,  vi.  17. 


CH.  III.  THE  MILITARY  SYSTEM  311 

school  and  amid  the  associations  of  the  barrack  will  not 
tend  to  make  men  saints,  but  it  is  likely  to  do  much  to 
strengthen  and  discipline  their  characters,  and  to  fit 
them  to  play  a  useful  and  lionourable  part  in  civil  life. 
It  at  least  gives  them  the  tastes  and  liabits  of  civilised 
men,  corrects  many  senseless  prejudices,  forms  brave, 
steady,  energetic,  and  patriotic  citizens.  It  mitigates 
the  problems  of  the  unemployed  and  of  pauperism,  and 
exercises  a  reforming  influence  on  the  idlest  and  most 
disorderly  elements  in  society.  Such  men  are  far  more 
likely  to  be  reclaimed  by  the  strong,  steady  pressure  of 
military  discipline  than  by  any  teaching  of  the  Churches 
or  the  schools. 

In  all  countries,  it  is  truly  said,  when  peace  has  con- 
tinued long,  and  when  wealth  and  prosperity  have 
greatly  increased,  insidious  vices  grow  up  which  do 
much  to  corrode  the  strength  of  nations.  Lax  princi- 
ples, low  ideals  ;  luxurious,  self-indulgent,  effeminate 
habits  of  thought  and  life  prevail ;  the  robuster  quali- 
ties decline ;  the  power  of  self-sacrifice  is  diminished, 
and  life  in  all  its  forms  takes  a  less  serious  cast.  The 
catastrophe  of  a  great  war  is  often  Nature's  stern  cor- 
rective of  these  evils,  but  every  wise  statesman  will 
look  for  remedies  that  are  less  drastic  and  less  perilous. 
Of  these,  a  few  years  of  universal  military  discipline  is 
one  of  the  most  powerful.  It  is  the  best  tonic  for  a 
debilitated  system. 

Some  admirers  have  gone  even  further.  There  is  a 
theory,  which,  I  believe,  took  its  rise  in  Germany,  but 
which  has  found  adherents  in  England,  that  the  gigan- 
tic armies  of  the  Continent  in  reality  cost  nothing,  for 
the  productive  powers  of  men  are  so  much  increased  by 
a  few  years  of  military  discipline  that  society  is  amply 
compensated  for  the  sacrifice  it  has  made.  Two  or 
three  years  of  a  life  are  taken  from  productive  employ- 


312  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  m. 

ment  and  supported  from  national  funds,  but  the  re- 
mainder is  rendered  greatly  more  productive. 

I  have  endeavoured  to  state  the  case  of  the  supporters 
of  universal  service  in  its  strongest  form.  I  do  not 
think  that  it  can  be  doubted  that  it  contains  some 
truth ;  but,  like  much  truth  that  has  been  long  ne- 
glected, it  has  been  thrust  into  an  exaggerated  and 
misleading  prominence.  The  question  is  one  of  ex- 
treme importance  for  the  English-speaking  race,  for,  if 
the  education  of  universal  military  service  does  all  that 
is  attributed  to  it,  the  Continental  nations  which  have 
generally  adopted  it  must  necessarily,  in  the  long  run, 
rise  to  a  higher  plane  than  the  English  race,  who,  on 
both  sides  of  the  ocean,  have  steadily  rejected  it.  To 
me,  at  least,  the  theory  of  the  inexpensiveness  of  the 
Continental  military  system  seems  to  be  a  complete 
paradox,  in  the  face  of  the  overwhelming  and  ever- 
increasing  burden  of  debt  and  taxation  distinctly  due 
to  the  military  system,  which  is  crushing  and  paralysing 
the  industry  of  Europe  and  threatening  great  nations 
with  speedy  bankruptcy.  It  is  true  that  military  dis- 
cipline often  forms  valuable  industrial  qualities ;  but 
it  is  also  true  that  the  conscription  breaks  the  habits 
of  industrial  life  at  the  very  age  when  it  is  most  impor- 
tant that  they  should  be  formed,  and  that,  in  countless 
cases,  the  excitements  and  associations  of  military  life 
utterly  unfit  men  for  the  monotony  of  humble  labour, 
pursued,  perhaps,  in  some  remote  hamlet,  and  amid 
surroundings  of  abject  poverty. 

With  the  present  gigantic  armies,  wars  have,  no 
doubt,  become  less  frequent,  though  they  have  become 
incomparably  more  terrible  ;  but  can  anyone  seriously 
contend  that  the  unrestrained  and  reckless  military 
competition  of  the  last  few  years  has  given  Europe 
any  real  security,  or  that  either  the  animosities  or  the 


OH.  III.  THE  MILITARY  SYSTEM  813 

aspirations  that  threaten  it  have  gone  down  ?  Are 
its  statesmen  confident  that  an  ambitious  monarch,  or 
a  propitious  moment ;  or  an  alliance  or  an  invention 
that  materially  changes  the  balance  of  forces,  or  some 
transient  outburst  of  national  irritation  injudiciously 
treated,  might  not  at  any  moment  set  it  once  more  in  a 
blaze  ?  To  strew  gunpowder  on  all  sides  may,  no  doubt, 
produce  caution,  but  it  is  not  the  best  way  of  prevent- 
ing an  explosion.  Never  in  the  history  of  mankind 
have  explosive  elements  of  such  tremendous  potency 
been  accumulated  in  Europe,  and,  with  all  our  boasted 
democracy,  the  issues  of  peace  or  war  have  seldom 
rested  so  largely  with  three  or  four  men.  In  the  pre- 
sent condition  of  the  world,  it  would  be  quite  possible 
for  the  folly  of  a  single  ruler  to  bring  down  calamities 
upon  Europe  that  might  transfer  the  sceptre  of  civili- 
sation to  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic. 

The  security  of  internal  peace  given  by  a  great  army, 
and  the  influence  of  military  discipline  in  forming 
habits  of  life  and  thought  that  are  opposed  to  anarchi- 
cal and  revolutionary  tendencies,  have  been  much  dwelt 
on.  But  if  the  military  system  does  much  to  employ 
and  reclaim  the  dangerous  classes,  if  it  teaches  loyalty 
and  obedience  and  respect,  it  also  brings  with  it  bur- 
dens which  are  steadily  fomenting  discontent.  Cer- 
tainly, the  great  military  nations  of  the  world  are  not 
those  in  which  Anarchy,  Socialism,  and  Nihilism  are 
least  rife.  Of  all  the  burdens  that  a  modern  Govern- 
ment can  impose  on  its  subjects,  incomparably  the 
heaviest  is  universal  compulsory  military  service,  and, 
to  a  large  minority  of  those  who  undergo  it,  it  is  the 
most  irritating  and  the  most  crushing  servitude.  Nor 
should  it  be  forgotten  that,  if  this  system  furnishes 
Governments  with  tremendous  engines  of  repression, 
it  is  also  preparing  the  time  when  every  revolutionary 


314  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  hi. 

movement  will  be  made  by  men  who  have  the  knowledge 
and  experience  of  military  life.  A  great  military  Power 
continually  augmenting  its  army  in  hopes  of  repressing 
anarchy  presents  a  spectacle  much  like  that  which  may 
be  seen  at  a  Spanish  bullfight  when  the  banderilla  has 
been  planted  by  a  skilful  hand,  and  when  every  bound 
by  which  the  infuriated  animal  seeks  to  shake  off  the 
barb  that  is  lacerating  its  flesh  only  deepens  and  exas- 
perates the  wound. 

No  reasonable  man  will  deny  that  a  period  of  steady 
discipline  is,  to  many  characters,  an  education  of  great 
value — an  education  producing  results  that  are  not 
likely  in  any  other  way  to  be  equally  attained.  It  is 
especially  useful  in  communities  that  are  still  in  a  low 
stage  of  civilisation,  and  have  not  yet  attained  the  ha- 
bits of  order  and  respect  for  authority,  and  in  commu- 
nities that  are  deeply  divided  by  sectional  and  provincial 
antipathies.  It  is,  I  think,  equally  true  that  improve- 
ments have  been  introduced  into  modern  armies  which 
have  greatly  raised  their  moral  tone.  But,  when  all 
this  is  admitted,  the  shadows  of  the  picture  remain 
very  marked.  Deferred  marriage,  the  loosening  of 
domestic  ties,  the  growth  of  ideals  in  which  bloodshed 
and  violence  play  a  great  part,  a  diminished  horror  of 
war,  the  constant  employment  of  the  best  human  inge- 
nuity in  devising  new  and  more  deadly  instruments  of 
destruction — all  these  things  follow  in  the  train  of  the 
great  armies.  It  is  impossible  to  turn  Europe  into  a 
camp  without  in  some  degree  reviving  the  ideals  and 
the  standards  of  a  military  age. 

Discipline  teaches  much,  but  it  also  represses  much, 
and  the  dead-level  and  passive  obedience  of  the  mili- 
tary system  are  not  the  best' school  of  independent 
thought  and  individual  energy.  To  the  finer  and  more 
delicate  flowers  of  human  culture  it  is  peculiarly  pre- 


CH.  iiL  THE  MILITARY  SYSTEM  315 

judicial.  Strongly  marked  individual  types,  highly 
strung,  sensitive,  nervous  organisations,  are  the  soils 
from  which  much  that  is  most  beautiful  in  our  civili- 
sation has  sprung.  Beyond  all  other  things,  enforced 
military  service  tends  to  sterilise  them.  Among  such 
men  it  is  difficult  to  overestimate  either  the  waste  and 
ruin  of  high  talent,  or  the  amount  of  acute  and  useless 
suif  ering  that  it  produces.  To  democracies  these  things 
are  of  little  moment,  and  they  seem  lost  in  the  splen- 
dour and  pageantry  of  military  life.  But  the  statistics 
that  are  occasionally  published,  exhibiting  the  im- 
mensely disproportionate  number  of  suicides  in  some 
of  the  chief  armies  of  the  Continent,  show  clearly  the 
suffering  that  is  festering  beneath. 

Taine  has  devoted  to  the  growth  of  the  military  sys- 
tem several  pages  of  admirable  power  and  truth,  and  he 
justly  describes  conscription  as  the  natural  companion 
or  brother  of  universal  suffrage — one  of  the  two  great 
democratic  forces  which  seem  destined  for  some  time 
to  rule  the  world. ^  The  levelling  and  intermingling  of 
classes  it  produces  renders  it  congenial  to  a  democratic 
age,  and  the  old  system  of  obtaining  exemptions  and 
substitutions  for  money  has  been  generally  abolished. 
In  the  majority  of  cases,  those  who  desired  exemption 
were  men  with  no  military  aptitude,  so  the  army  proba- 
bly gained  by  the  substitution.  It  was  a  free  contract, 
in  which  the  poor  man  received  what  the  rich  man 
paid,  and  by  which  both  parties  were  benefited.  It 
gave,  however,  some  privilege  to  wealth,  and  democracy, 
true  to  its  genuine  instinct  of  preferring  equality  to 
liberty,  emphatically  condemned  it. 

There  is,  however,  another  aspect  of  the  question 
which  has  impressed  serious  observers  on  the  Conti- 


"  Origines  de  la  France  Contemporaine :  Le  Regime  ModemCy  i. 
284-96. 


316  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  in. 

nent.  In  spite  of  the  affinity  I  have  mentioned,  it 
would  be  hardly  possible  to  conceive  a  greater  contrast 
in  spirit  and  tendency  than  exists  in  some  essential 
respects  between  the  highly  democratic  representative 
Governments  and  the  universal  military  service,  which 
are  simultaneously  flourishing  in  a  great  part  of  Europe. 
The  one  is  a  system  in  which  all  ideas  of  authority  and 
subordination  are  discarded,  in  which  the  skilful  talker 
or  demagogue  naturally  rules,  in  which  every  question 
is  decided  by  the  votes  of  a  majority,  in  which  liberty 
is  perpetually  pushed  to  the  borders  of  license.  The 
other  is  a  system  of  the  strictest  despotism  and  subor- 
dination, of  passive  obedience  without  discussion  or  re- 
monstrance ;  a  system  with  ideals,  habits,  and  standards 
of  judgment  utterly  unlike  those  of  popular  politics  ;  a 
system  which  is  rapidly  including,  and  moulding,  and 
representing  the  whole  adult  male  population.  And 
while  parliamentary  government  is  everywhere  show- 
ing signs  of  growing  inefficiency  and  discredit,  the 
armies  of  Europe  are  steadily  strengthening,  absorbing 
more  and  more  the  force  and  manhood  of  Christendom. 
Some  observers  are  beginning  to  ask  themselves  whether 
these  two  things  are  likely  always  to  go  on  together, 
and  always  to  maintain  their  present  relation — whether 
the  eagles  will  always  be  governed  by  the  parrots. 

The  great  growth  of  militarism  in  the  latter  half 
of  the  nineteenth  century  has,  I  think,  contributed 
largely,  though  indirectly,  to  the  prevailing  tendency 
to  aggrandise  the  powers  of  government  and  to  seek 
social  reforms  in  strong,  coercive  organisations  of  so- 
ciety. It  is  also  the  chief  source  of  the  immense  in- 
crease of  taxation,  tvhich  has  so  seriously  aggravated  the 
dangers  of  a  period  of  democratic  transformation.  It  is 
not,  indeed,  by  any  means  the  only  source.  Something 
is  due  to  the  higher  wages,  the  better  payment  of  f  unc- 


OH.  III.  NATIONAL  EDUCATION  317 

tionaries  and  workmen  of  every  order,  which  has  fol- 
lowed in  the  train  of  a  higher  standard  of  life  and 
comfort..  This  beneficent  movement  was  much  ac- 
centuated in  a  period  of  great  prosperity,  and  it  has 
continued  with  little  abatement,  though  economical 
conditions  have  much  changed. 

A  much  more  considerable  cause,  however,  of  the 
increase  of  national  expenditure  is  to  be  found  in  the 
many  new  duties  that  are  thrown  upon  the  State.  The 
most  important  of  these  has  been  that  of  national  edu- 
cation. Hardly  any  change  in  our  generation  has  been 
more  marked  than  that  which  made  the  education  of 
the  poor  one  of  the  main  functions  of  the  Government. 
In  1833,  a  parliamentary  grant  of  20,000?.  was,  for  the 
first  time,  made  in  England  to  assist  two  societies  en- 
gaged in  popular  education.  In  1838,  the  parliamen- 
tary grant  was  raised  to  30,000?.  a  year.  It  soon  passed 
these  limits  ;  but  the  great  period  of  national  expendi- 
ture on  education  is  much  more  recent.  Before  the 
Act  of  1870  the  State,  in  encouraging  primary  educa- 
tion, confined  itself  to  grants  in  aid  of  local  and  volun- 
tary bodies.  It  built  no  schools,  and  it  made  no 
provision  for  education  where  local  agencies  were  want- 
ing. The  Act  of  1870,  providing  for  the  establishment 
of  a  school  in  every  district  where  the  supply  of  educa- 
tion was  deficient ;  the  Act  of  1876,  making  it  penal 
for  parents  to  neglect  the  education  of  their  children, 
and  the  Act  of  1891,  granting  free  education,  were  the 
chief  causes  of  the  rapid  rise  in  this  branch  of  expendi- 
ture. In  1892  the  total  expenditure  of  school  boards 
in  England  and  Wales  amounted  to  the  enormous  sum 
of  7,134,386?.  The  number  of  free  scholars  was  about 
3,800,000,  and  the  number  of  children  paying  fees  or 
partial  fees  was  about  1,020,000.^ 

'  See  the  statistics  in  Whitaker's  Almanack  for  1894,  pp.  601, 605. 


318  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  iii. 

England  lias,  in  this  respect,  only  acted  on  the  same 
lines  as  other  civilised  countries.  She  has  acted  on  the 
supposition  that,  in  the  competition  of  nations,  no  un- 
educated people  can  hold  its  own,  either  in  industrial 
or  political  competitions,  and  that  democratic  govern- 
ment can  only  be  tolerable  when  it  rests  on  the  broad 
basis  of  an  educated  people.  Probably  few  persons 
will  now  altogether  doubt  these  truths,  though  some- 
thing of  the  old  belief  in  the  omnipotence  of  education 
may  have  passed  away,  and  though  some  qualifying 
considerations  may  have  come  into  sight.  The  old 
Tory  doctrine,  that  national  education  may  easily  be 
carried  to  a  point  which  unfits  men  for  the  manual 
toil  in  which  the  great  majority  must  pass  their  lives, 
was  certainly  not  without  foundation.  Formerly,  the 
best  workman  was  usually  content  to  remain  in  his 
class,  and  to  bring  up  his  children  in  it.  He  took  a 
pride  in  his  work,  and  by  doing  so  he  greatly  raised  its 
standard  and  character.  His  first  desire  is  now,  much 
more  frequently,  to  leave  it,  or  at  least  to  educate  his 
children  in  the  tastes  and  habits  of  a  class  which  he 
considers  a  little  higher  than  his  own.  That  a  man 
born  in  the  humbler  stages  of  society,  who  possesses 
the  power  of  playing  a  considerable  part  in  the  world, 
should  be  helped  to  do  so  is  very  desirable  ;  but  it  is  by 
no  means  desirable  that  the  flower  of  the  working-class, 
or  their  children,  should  learn  to  despise  manual  labour 
and  the  simple,  inexpensive  habits  of  their  parents,  in 
order  to  become  very  commonplace  doctors,  attorneys, 
clerks,  or  newspaper  writers.  This  is  what  is  continu- 
ally happening,  and  while  it  deprives  the  working- 
classes  of  their  best  elements,  it  is  one  great  cause  of 
the  exaggerated  competition  which  now  falls  with 
crushing  weight  on  the  lower  levels  of  the  intellectual 
professions. 


CH.  III.  SOME  RESULTS  OF   POPULAR  EDUCATION        319 

Education,  even  to  a  very  humble  degree,  does  much 
to  enlarge  interests  and  brighten  existence  ;  but,  by  a 
melancholy  compensation,  it  makes  men  far  more  im- 
patient of  the  tedium,  the  monotony,  and  the  contrasts 
of  life.  It  produces  desires  which  it  cannot  always 
sate,  and  it  affects  very  considerably  the  disposition  and 
relations  of  classes.  One  common  result  is  the  strong 
preference  for  town  to  country  life.  A  marked  and  un- 
happy characteristic  of  the  present  age  in  England  is 
the  constant  depletion  of  the  country  districts  by  the 
migration  of  multitudes  of  its  old,  healthy  population 
to  the  debilitating,  and  often  depraving,  atmosphere  of 
the  great  towns.  The  chief  causes  of  this  change  are, 
no  doubt,  economical.  In  the  extreme  depression  of  ag- 
riculture, every  farmer  finds  it  absolutely  essential  to 
keep  his  wage  bill  at  the  lowest  point,  and  therefore  to 
employ  as  few  labourers  as  possible.  Machinery  takes 
the  place  of  hand  labour.  Arable  land,  which  supports 
many,  becomes  pasture  land,  which  supports  few.  But 
everyone  who  has  much  practical  acquaintance  with 
country  life  will,  I  believe,  agree  that  the  movement  has 
been  greatly  intensified  by  the  growing  desire  for  more 
excitement  and  amusement  which,  under  the  influ- 
ence of  popular  education,  has  spread  widely  through 
the  agricultural  labourers.  Hopes  and  ambitions  that 
are  too  often  bitterly  falsified  draw  them  in  multitudes 
to  the  great  towns. 

This  restlessness  and  discontent  produce  considerable 
political  effects.  Education  nearly  always  promotes 
peaceful  tastes  and  orderly  habits  in  the  community, 
but  in  other  respects  its  political  value  is  often  greatly 
overrated.  The  more  dangerous  forms  of  animosity 
and  dissension  are  usually  undiminished,  and  are  often 
stimulated,  by  its  influence.  An  immense  proportion 
of  those  who  have  learnt  to  read,  never  read  anything 


320  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  ill. 

bnt  a  party  newspaper — very  probably  a  newspaper  spe- 
cially intended  to  inflame  or  to  mislead  them — and  the 
half-educated  mind  is  peculiarly  open  to  political  Uto- 
pias and  fanaticisms.  Very  few  such  men  can  realise 
distant  consequences,  or  even  consequences  which  are 
distant  but  one  remove  from  the  primary  or  direct  one. 
How  few  townsmen,  in  a  political  contest,  will  realise 
that  the  neglect  or  depression  of  agriculture  beats  down 
town  wages,  by  producing  an  immigration  of  agricul- 
tural labourers ;  or  that  a  great  strike  in  times  of  manu- 
facturing depression  will  usually  drive  the  industry 
on  which  they  depend  for  their  food,  in  part  at  least, 
out  of  the  country  ;  or  that  a  highly  graduated  system 
of  taxation,  which  at  first  brings  in  much  money  at  the 
cost  of  the  few,  will  soon  lead  to  a  migration  of  the 
capital  which  is  essential  to  the  subsistence  of  the  many. 
Every  politician  knows  how  difficult  it  is  in  times  of 
peace  to  arouse  the  public  to  the  importance  of  the 
army  and  navy,  on  which  the  very  existence  of  the  Em- 
pire may  depend,  or  to  questions  affecting  national 
credit,  or  to  questions  affecting  those  distant  portions 
of  the  Empire  which  feed,  by  their  commerce,  our 
home  industries.  Few  men  clearly  realise  that  each 
popular  exemption  from  taxation,  each  popular  sub- 
sidy that  is  voted,  means  a  corresponding  burden  im- 
posed on  some  portion  of  the  community  ;  or  that 
economies  which  leave  Civil  Servants  underpaid  almost 
always  lead  to  wastefulness,  inefficiency,  and  corrup- 
tion. Men  seldom  bestow  on  public  questions  the  same 
seriousness  of  attention  that  they  bestow  on  their  pri- 
vate concerns,  and  they  seldom  look  as  far  into  the 
future.  National  interests  continually  give  way  to 
party  or  to  class  interests.  The  ultimate  interests  even 
of  a  class  are  subordinated  to  the  immediate  benefit  of 
a  section  of  it.     Proximate  ends  overshadow  distant 


CH.  in.  SHORTSIGHTED  POLITICS  321 

consequences,  and  when  the  combative  instinct,  with 
all  its  passion  and  its  pride,  is  aroused,  even  proximate 
interests  are  often  forgotten.  In  few  fields  have  there 
been  more  fatal  miscalculations  than  in  the  competition 
and  struggle  of  industrial  life,  and  they  are  largely  due 
to  this  cause. 

All  classes  are  liable  to  mistakes  of  this  kind,  but 
they  are  especially  prevalent  among  the  half-educated, 
who  have  passed  out  of  the  empire  of  old  habits  and 
restraints.  Such  men  are  peculiarly  apt  to  fall  under 
misleading  influences.  They  are  usually  insensible  to 
the  extreme  complexity  of  the  social  fabric  and  the 
close  interdependence  of  its  many  parts,  and  to  the 
transcendent  importance  of  consequences  that  are  often 
obscure,  remote,  and  diffused  through  many  different 
channels.  The  complete  illiteracy  of  a  man  is  a 
strong  argument  against  entrusting  him  with  politi- 
cal power,  but  the  mere  knowledge  of  reading  and 
writing  is  no  real  guarantee,  or  even  presumption, 
that  he  will  wisely  exercise  it.  In  order  to  attain  this 
wisdom  we  must  look  to  other  methods — to  a  wide  dif- 
fusion of  property,  to  a  system  of  representation  that 
gives  a  voice  to  many  different  interests  and  types. 
The  sedulous  maintenance  of  the  connection  between 
taxation  and  voting  is,  perhaps,  the  best  means  of  ob- 
taining it. 

These  considerations  are  not  intended  to  show  that 
education  is  not  a  good  thing,  but  only  that  its  political 
advantages  have  not  always  proved  as  unmixed  and  as 
great  as  has  been  supposed.  In  the  age  in  which  we 
live,  the  incapacity  and  impotence  that  result  from 
complete  illiteracy  can  hardly  be  exaggerated,  and 
every  Government,  as  it  seems  to  me,  should  make  it 
its  duty  to  provide  that  all  its  subjects  should  at  least 
possess  the  rudiments  of  knowledge.     It  is  also  a  mat- 

VOL.  I.  21 


322  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY  ch.  hi. 

ter  of  much  importance  to  the  community  that  there 
should  be  hidders  by  which  poor  men  of  real  ability  can 
climb  to  higher  positions  in  the  social  scale.  This  is 
an  object  for  which  private  endowments  have  largely 
and  wisely  provided,  and,  unless  the  flow  of  private 
benevolence  is  arrested  by  the  increasing  action  of  the 
State,  endowments  for  this  purpose  are  sure  to  mul- 
tiply. Another  order  of  considerations,  however, 
comes  into  play  when  great  revenues  are  raised  by  com» 
pulsion  for  the  purpose  of  establishing  a  free  national 
education  which  has  more  the  character  of  secondary 
than  primary  education.  The  childless  are  taxed  for 
the  education  of  children,  and  large  classes  of  parents 
for  the  support  of  schools  they  will  never  use.  Paren- 
tal responsibility,  as  well  as  parental  rights,  are  dimi- 
nished, and  a  grinding  weight  of  taxation,  for  a  purpose 
with  which  they  have  little  or  no  real  sympathy,  falls 
upon  some  of  the  most  struggling  classes  in  the  com- 
munity. 

There  can  be  little  doubt  that  this  form  of  taxation 
is  likely  to  increase.  A  large  party  desire  to  provide 
at  the  expense  of  the  State,  not  only  free  education, 
but  also  free  school-books,  free  recreation-grounds,  and 
at  least  one  meal  during  school-hours.  Sectarian  Jea- 
lousies and  animosities,  in  more  than  one  country,  add 
largely  to  the  cost  of  education  by  an  unnecessary  mul- 
tiplication of  schools,  or  by  establishing  a  ruinous  com- 
petition between  State  schools  and  schools  established 
by  voluntary  subscription  or  supported  by  religious 
denominations.  At  the  same  time,  the  standard  of 
popular  and  free,  or,  in  other  words.  State-paid  educa- 
tion, seems  steadily  rising.  A  crowd  of  subjects  which 
lie  far  beyond  the  limits  of  primary  education  are 
already  taught,  either  gratuitously  or  below  cost  price. 
In  most  countries,  education  in  all  its  stages  seems  be- 


CH.  III.  SANITARY  REFORM  323 

coming  more  and  more  a  State  function,  bearing  more 
and  more  the  State  stamp,  and  more  and  more  sup- 
ported from  public  funds. 

This  is  one  main  cause  of  the  increase  of  the  revenue 
drawn  by  the  Government  from  the  people.  There 
are  others,  on  which  we  may,  I  think,  look  with  more 
unhesitating  approval.  The  great  work  of  sanitary 
reform  has  been,  perhaps,  the  noblest  legislative 
achievement  of  our  age,  and,  if  measured  by  the  suffer- 
ing it  has  diminished,  has  probably  done  far  more  for 
the  real  happiness  of  mankind  than  all  the  many  ques- 
tions that  make  and  unmake  ministries.  It  received  its 
first  great  impetus  in  the  present  century  from  the 
Public  Health  Act  of  1848,  and  in  our  own  generation 
it  has  been  greatly  and  variously  extended.  There  can 
be  no  nobler  or  wiser  end  for  a  statesman  to  follow 
than  to  endeavour  to  secure  for  the  poor,  as  far  as  is 
possible,  the  same  measure  of  life  and  health  as  for  the 
rich.  Among  the  many  addresses  that  were  presented 
to  the  Queen  in  her  Jubilee  year,  none  appeared  to  me 
so  significant  as  that  which  was  presented  by  the  sani- 
tary inspectors,  summing  up  what  had  been  done  in 
England  during  the  first  fifty  years  of  the  reign.  They 
observed  that  the  general  health  of  Her  Majesty's  sub- 
jects had  advanced  far  beyond  that  of  any  great  State 
of  Europe  or  of  the  United  States  ;  that  the  mean 
duration  of  life  of  all  the  Queen's  subjects  had  been 
augmented  by  three  and  a  half  years  ;  that  in  the  last 
year's  population  of  England  and  AVales  there  had  been 
a  saving  of  84,000  cases  of  death,  and  of  more  than 
1,700,000  cases  of  sickness,  over  the  average  rates  of 
death  and  sickness  at  the  beginning  of  the  reign  ;  that 
the  death-rate  of  the  home  army  had  been  reduced  by 
more  than  half,  and  the  death-rate  of  the  Indian  army 
by  more  than  four-fifths. 


324  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  in. 

All  this  cannot  be  done  without  the  constant  inter- 
veiltion  of  Government.  On  the  subject  of  sanitary 
reform  the  case  of  the  extreme  individualist  will  always 
break  down,  for  disease  is  most  frequently  of  a  con- 
tagious and  epidemical  character,  and  the  conditions 
from  which  it  springs  can  never  be  dealt  with  except 
by  general,  organised,  coercive  measures.  The  real 
justification  of  the  law  imposing  compulsory  vaccina- 
tion on  an  unwilling  subject  is,  not  that  it  may  save  his 
life,  but  that  it  may  prevent  him  from  being  a  centre 
of  contagion  to  his  neighbours.  In  all  legislation 
about  drainage,  pollution  of  rivers,  insanitary  dwell- 
ings, the  prevention  of  infection,  and  the  establishment 
of  healthy  conditions  of  labour,  spasmodic  and  indi- 
vidual efforts,  unsupported  by  law,  will  always  prove 
insufficient.  As  population  increases,  and  is  more  and 
more  massed  in  large  towns ;  as  the  competition  for 
working  men's  houses  within  a  limited  area  grows  more 
intense ;  as  industry  takes  forms  which  bring  great 
numbers  of  working-men  and  women  under  the  same 
roof,  and  as  multiplying  schools  increase  the  danger  of 
children's  epidemics,  the  need  for  coercive  measures  of 
sanitary  regulation  becomes  more  imperious. 

A  Government  can  have  no  higher  object  than  to 
raise  the  standard  of  national  health,  and  it  may  do  so 
in  several  diiierent  ways.  It  may  do  much  to  encou- 
rage those  most  fruitful  and  beneficial  of  all  forms  of 
research — research  into  the  causes  of  disease  and  the 
methods  of  curing  it.  It  may  bring  within  the  reach 
of  the  poorest  class  the  medical  knowledge  and  appli- 
ances which,  in  a  ruder  state  of  society,  would  be  a 
monopoly  of  the  rich.  It  may  make  use  of  the  great 
technical  knowledge  at  its  command  to  establish  quali- 
fications for  medical  practice  which  will  restrain  the 
quack,  who  trades  on  the  fears  and  weaknesses  of  the 


CH.  m.  SANITARY  REFORM  326 

ignorant  much  as  the  professional  money-lender  does 
on  their  improvidence  and  inexperience.  It  may  also 
greatly  raise  the  health  of  the  community  by  measures 
preventing  insanitary  conditions  of  life,  noxious  adul- 
terations, or  the  spread  of  contagion. 

In  this,  no  doubt,  as  in  other  departments,  there  are 
qualifications  to  be  made,  dangers  and  exaggerations 
to  be  avoided.  Sanitary  reform  is  not  wholly  a  good 
thing  when  it  enables  the  diseased  and  feeble  members 
of  the  community,  who  in  another  stage  of  society 
would  have  died  in  infancy,  to  grow  up  and  become 
parent  stocks,  transmitting  a  weakened  type  or  the 
taint  of  hereditary  disease.  The  diminution  of  mor- 
tality which  sanitary  science  effects  is  mainly  in  infant 
mortality,  and  infant  mortality  is  a  far  less  evil  than 
adult  mortality,  and  in  not  a  few  cases  it  is  a  blessing 
in  disguise.  It  is  true,  too,  that  mere  legislation  in 
this,  as  in  other  fields,  will  prove  abortive  if  it  is  not 
supported  by  an  intelligent  public  opinion.  As  one  of 
the  wisest  statesmen  of  our  age  has  truly  said,  '  Sanitary 
instruction  is  even  more  essential  than  sanitary  legisla- 
tion, for  if  in  these  matters  the  public  knows  what  it 
wants,  sooner  or  later  the  legislation  will  follow ;  but 
the  best  laws,  in  a  country  like  this,  are  waste  paper  if 
they  are  not  appreciated  and  understood.'  ^ 

It  is  possible  that  a  Government,  acting  at  the 
dictation  of  a  profession  which  is  strongly  wedded  to 
professional  traditions  and  etiquette,  and  which  at  the 
same  time  deals  with  a  subject  very  far  removed  from 
scientific  certainty,  may  throw  obstacles  in  the  way  of 
new  treatments  and  remedies  that  may  prove  of  great 
benefit  to  mankind.  It  is  also  possible,  and,  indeed, 
probable,  that  it  may  carry  the  system  of  regulation  to 


'  Speeches  and  Addresses  of  Lord  Derhy^  i.  176. 


326  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  cu.  in. 

an  exaggerated  extent.  Some  portions  of  the  Factory 
Acts  are  open  to  this  criticism,  though  it  will  usually 
be  found  that  in  these  cases  other  than  sanitary  con- 
siderations have  entered  into  this  legislation.  It  is, 
however,  a  universal  rule  that  when  a  system  of  re- 
gulation has  begun,  it  will  tend  to  increase,  and 
when  men  entrusted  with  sanitary  reforms  become  a 
large  profession,  they  will  naturally  aggrandise  their 
power,  exaggerate  their  importance,  and  sometimes 
become  meddlesome  and  inquisitorial.  M.  Leon  Say 
has  lately  pointed  out  the  dangers  of  this  scientific 
Protectionism,  which  is  leading  sanitarians  to  attempt 
to  watch  our  lives  in  the  minutest  detail ;  and  another 
distinguished  French  authority  has  bluntly  declared 
that  a  new  '89  will  be  needed  against  the  tyranny  of 
hygiene,  in  order  to  regain  our  liberty  of  eating  and 
drinking,  and  to  limit  the  incessant  meddling  of  sani- 
tarians in  our  private  lives.  ^  Legislators  constantly 
overlook  the  broad  distinction  between  lines  of  con- 
duct that  are  injurious,  but  injurious  only  to  those 
who  follow  them,  and  lines  of  conduct  that  can  be 
clearly  shown  to  produce  danger  or  evil  to  the  com- 
munity. In  the  latter  case  Government  interference 
is  always  called  for.  In  the  former,  in  the  case  of 
adults  there  is  at  least  a  strong  presumption  against  it. 
As  a  general  rule,  an  adult  man  should  regulate  his 
own  life,  and  decide  for  himself  whether  he  will  run 
exceptional  risks  with  a  view  to  exceptional  rewards. 

But,  when  all  this  is  admitted,  there  is  hardly  any 
other  field  in  which  Governments  can  do,  or  have 
done,  so  much  to  alleviate  or  prevent  human  suffering. 
Neither  Governments  nor  their  advisers  are  infallible  ; 


'  See  an  essay  by  M.  Raffalovich  in  Mackay's  Plea  for  Liberty, 
1>.  217. 


CH.  III.  REFORM  OF  CRIMINALS  327 

but  in  this  case  Governments  act  with  the  best  lights 
that  medical  science  can  give,  and  they  act,  for  the 
most  part,  with  perfect  good  faith,  and  without  any 
possibility  of  party  advantage.  The  prolongation  of 
human  life  is  much.  The  diminution  or  alleviation 
of  disease  and  suffering  is  much  more.  Sanitary  re- 
form cannot  be  effectually  carried  out  without  a  heavy 
expenditure,  which  is  borne  in  the  shape  of  taxes  by 
the  community.  But,  looking  at  this  expenditure 
merely  from  an  economical  point  of  view,  no  expen- 
diture that  a  Government  can  make  is  more  highly 
remunerative.  Sir  James  Paget  has  estimated  the  loss 
of  labour  by  the  wage  classes  from  excessive,  pre- 
ventible  sickness,  at  twenty  millions  of  weeks  per 
annum.  Sir  Edwin  Chadwick  writes  :  '  The  burden 
of  lost  labour,  of  excessive  mortality,  and  of  excessive 
funerals  from  preventible  causes  were  largely  under- 
estimated in  1842  at  two  millions  per  annum  in  the 
Metropolis.  In  England  and  Wales,  those  same  local 
burdens  of  lost  labour  and  excessive  sickness  may  now 
be  estimated  at  upwards  of  twenty-eight  million  pounds 
per  annum.'  ^ 

A  very  similar  line  of  reasoning  may  be  employed  to 
justify  the  great  increase  of  national  expenditure  in 
England,  and  in  most  other  countries,  in  the  field  of 
prisons  and  reformatories.  The  enormous  improve- 
ments that  have  taken  place  in  the  prison  system  du- 
ring the  present  century  have  added  largely  to  the 
expenditure  of  nations,  but  they  have  put  an  end  to 
an  amount  of  needless  suffering,  demoralisation,  and 
waste  of  human  character  and  faculty  that  it  is  difficult 
to  overestimate.  '  The  best  husbandry,'  as  Grattan 
once  said,  '  is  the  husbandry  of  the  human  creature.' 


'  Chadwick  on  Unity .^  p.  63. 


328  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  in. 

To  distinguish  between  crime  that  springs  from 
strongly  marked  criminal  tendency  and  crime  that  is 
due  to  mere  unfavourable  circumstances,  or  transient 
passion,  or  weakness  of  will ;  to  distinguish  among 
genuine  criminal  tendencies  between  those  which  are 
still  incipient  and  curable,  and  those  which  have  ac- 
quired the  force  of  an  inveterate  disease,  is  the  basis  of 
all  sound  criminal  reform.  It  cannot  be  carried  out 
without  much  careful  classification  and  many  lines  of 
separate  treatment.  The  agencies  for  reclaiming  and 
employing  juvenile  criminals  ;  the  separate  treatment 
of  intoxication  ;  the  broad  distinction  drawn  between 
a  first  offender  and  an  habitual  criminal  ;  the  prison 
regulations  that  check  the  contagion  of  vice,  have  all 
had  a  good  effect  in  reducing  the  amount  of  crime. 
Most  of  these  things  cost  much,  but  they  produce  a 
speedy  and  ample  return.  Money  is  seldom  better  or 
more  economically  spent  than  in  diminishing  the  sum 
of  human  crime  and  raising  the  standard  of  human 
character.  In  this  case,  as  in  the  case  of  sanitary  re- 
form, it  may  be  truly  said  that  legislators  act  under 
the  best  available  advice  and  with  perfect  singleness  of 
purpose.  On  such  questions  very  few  votes  can  be 
either  gained  or  lost. 

The  same  thing  cannot  be  said  of  all  extensions  of 
Government  functions.  No  feature  is  more  cha- 
racteristic of  modern  democracy  than  the  tendency  to 
regulate  and  organise  by  law  cduntless  industries  which 
were  once  left  to  private  initiative  and  arrangement ; 
to  apply  the  machinery  of  the  State  to  countless  func- 
tions which  were  once  discharged  by  independent  bodies, 
or  private  benevolence,  or  co-operation.  A  vast  increase 
in  many  forms  of  expenditure  and  in  many  different 
kinds  of  officials  is  the  inevitable  consequence,  impos- 
ing great  additional  burdens  on  the  taxpayer,  and  each 


CH.  III.  EXTENSION  OF  GOVERNMENT  FUNCTIONS   329 

new  departure  in  the  field  of  expenditure  is  usually 
made  a  precedent  and  a  pretext  for  many  others.  I 
cannot  go  as  far  as  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer  and  some 
other  writers  of  his  school  in  denouncing  this  as 
wholly  evil,  though  I  agree  with  them  that  the  dan- 
gerous exaggerations  and  tendencies  are  chiefly  on  this 
side.  Much  of  this  increased  elaboration  of  govern- 
ment seems  to  me  inevitable.  As  civilisation  becomes 
more  highly  organised  and  complex,  as  machinery 
increases  and  population  and  industries  agglomerate, 
new  wants,  interests,  dind  dangers  arise,  which  im- 
periously require  increased  regulation.  It  is  impos- 
sible to  leave  a  great  metropolis  or  a  vast,  fluctuating, 
industrial  population  with  as  little  regulation  as  a 
country  village  or  a  pastoral  people.  Compare  the  old 
system  of  locomotion  by  a  few  coaches  or  waggons  with 
our  present  railway  system;  or  our  old  domestic  in- 
dustries with  our  present  gigantic  factories,  stores  and 
Joint-stock  companies  ;  or  the  old  system  of  simple, 
isolated  cesspools  with  the  highly  complex  drainage  on 
which  the  safety  of  our  great  towns  depends,  and  it 
will  be  evident  how  much  new  restraining  and  regulat- 
ing legislation  is  required.  The  growth  of  philan- 
thropy, and  the  increasing  light  which  the  press  throws 
on  all  the  sides  of  a  nation's  life,  make  public  opinion 
keenly  sensible  of  much  preventible  misery  it  would 
have  either  never  known  or  never  cared  for,  and  science 
discloses  dangers,  evils,  and  possibilities  of  cure  of  which 
our  ancestors  never  dreamed. 

All  these  things  produce  a  necessity  for  much  ad- 
ditional regulation,  and  a  strong  pressure  of  public 
opinion  for  much  more.  If  Governments,  as  distin- 
guished from  private  companies,  have  some  disadvan- 
tages, they  have  also  some  important  advantages.  They 
can  command  a  vast  amount  of  technical  skill.     They 


330  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  in. 

can  act  with  a  simultaneity  and  authority,  and  on  a 
scale  which  no  private  organisation  can  emulate,  and 
in  England,  at  least  since  the  old  system  of  patronage 
has  been  replaced  by  the  present  system  of  examination 
and  constant  control,  the  State  can  usually  count  upon  a 
very  large  supply  of  pure  and  disinterested  administra- 
tors. On  some  subjects  Governments  are  much  less 
likely  than  private  companies  to  be  deflected  by  corrupt 
or  sinister  motives,  and  an  English  Government  has  the 
great  advantage  of  possessing  the  best  credit  in  the 
world,  which  enables  it  to  ^ve  many  enterprises  an 
unrivalled  stability  and  security,  and  to  conduct  them 
with  unusual  economy.  The  application  of  British 
credit  to  schemes  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor,  or  the 
solution  of  great  social  questions,  has  of  late  years  been 
largely  extended,  and  seems  likely  steadily  to  advance. 
There  is  also  some  difference  between  the  action  of  a 
representative  Government,  including,  utilising,  and 
commanding  the  best  talent  in  all  classes,  and  a 
despotic  or  highly  aristocratic  Government,  which  is 
in  the  hands  of  a  few  men,  and  acts  under  very  little 
restraint  and  control,  like  a  kind  of  Providence  apart 
from  the  nation. 

In  many  departments  the  conveniences  of  State  ac- 
tion are  very  great.  Few  persons,  for  example,  would 
withdraw  the  post-office  from  Government  hands. 
Private  enterprise  might  perform  its  functions  with 
equal  efficiency  in  the  chief  centres  of  population,  but 
Government  alone  could  carry  on  the  enterprise  uni- 
formly and  steadily,  in  all  countries,  in  the  districts 
that  are  unremunerative  as  well  as  in  those  which  are 
profitable.  It  would  be  difficult  to  conceive  a  more 
flagrant  violation  of  the  English  fetish  of  Free  Trade 
than  the  regulation  of  cab  fares  by  authority  ;  but  the 
convenience  of  the  system  is  so  great  that  no  one 


CH.  III.  SUCCESSFUL  STATE  ACTION  331 

wishes  to  abolish  it.  Banking  for  the  benefit  of  pri- 
vate persons  is  certainly  not  a  natural  business  of  Go- 
vernment, but  Government  machinery  and  Government 
credit  have  built  up  a  system  of  savings  banks  and 
post-office  banks  which  has  been  a  vast  blessing  to 
the  poor,  encouraging  among  them,  to  an  eminent 
degree,  providence  and  thrift,  and  at  the  same  time 
giving  them  a  direct  interest  in  the  stability  of  the 
Empire  and  the  security  of  property.  Few  things 
have  conferred  more  benefits  on  agriculture  than  the 
large  sums  which  have  been  advanced  to  landlords  for 
drainage,  at  a  rate  of  interest  sufficient  to  secure  the 
State  from  loss,  but  lower  than  they  could  have  ob- 
tained in  a  private  market.  Of  all  the  schemes  that 
have  been  formed  for  improving  the  condition  of  Ire- 
land, the  most  promising  is  that  for  the  creation  of  a 
peasant-proprietary  by  means  of  loans  issued  at  a  rate 
of  interest  which  the  State,  and  the  State  alone,  could 
command,  and  repaid  by  instalments  in  a  defined  num- 
ber of  years.  This  is  a  type  of  legislation  which  is 
almost  certain  in  the  future  to  be  widely  and  variously 
applied. 

All  these  excursions  outside  the  natural  sphere  of 
Government  influence  should  be  carefully  and  jealously 
watched  ;  but  there  are  some  distinctions  which  should 
not  be  forgotten.  Government  enterprises  which  are 
remunerative  stand  on  a  different  basis  from  those 
which  must  be  permanently  subsidised  by  taxation,  or, 
in  other  words,  by  forced  payments,  in  most  cases 
largely  drawn  from  those  who  are  least  benefited  by 
them.  If  it  be  shown  that  the  State  management  of 
some  great  enterprise  can  be  conducted  with  efficiency, 
and  at  the  same  time  made  to  pay  its  expenses ;  if  it 
can  be  shown  that,  by  the  excellent  credit  of  the  State, 
a  State  loan  or  a  State  guarantee  can  effect  some  useful 


332  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  va. 

change  or  call  into  being  some  useful  enterprise  with- 
out loss  to  the  State  or  to  its  credit,  a  large  portion  of 
the  objections  to  this  intervention  will  have  been  re- 
moved. It  is  also  very  important  to  consider  whether 
the  proposed  intervention  of  the  Government  lies  apart 
from  the  sphere  of  politics,  or  whether  it  may  become 
a  source  or  engine  of  corruption.  It  may  do  so  by 
placing  a  large  addition  of  patronage  in  the  hands  of 
the  executive  ;  and  it  may  do  so  still  more  dangerous- 
ly by  creating  new  and  corrupt  reasons  for  giving  or 
soliciting  votes.  Few  persons,  for  example,  can  doubt 
that,  if  the  Socialist  policy  of  placing  the  great  indus- 
tries of  the  country  in  the  hands  of  municipalities 
were  carried  out,  numbers  of  votes  would  be  syste- 
matically given  for  the  sole  purpose  of  obtaining  advan- 
tages for  the  workmen  connected  with  these  industries, 
at  the  cost  of  the  community  at  large. 

Another  element  to  be  considered  is,  whether  the 
things  the  State  is  asked  to  assist  are  of  a  kind  that 
can  flourish  without  its  aid.  There  are  forms  of  sci- 
ence and  literature  and  research  which  can  by  no  pos- 
sibility be  remunerative,  or  at  least  remunerative  in 
any  proportion  to  the  labour  they  entail  or  the  ability 
they  require.  A  nation  which  does  not  produce  and 
does  not  care  for  these  things  can  have  only  an  inferior 
and  imperfect  civilisation.  A  Government  grant  which 
would  appear  almost  infinitesimal  in  the  columns  of  a 
modern  Budget  will  do  much  to  support  and  encourage 
them.  Expenditure  in  works  of  art  and  art  schools, 
in  public  buildings,  in  picture-galleries,  in  museums, 
adds  largely  to  the  glory  and  dignity  of  a  nation  and  to 
the  education  of  its  people.  It  is  continually  increas- 
ing that  common  property  which  belongs  alike  to  all 
classes  ;  and  it  is  a  truly  democratic  thing,  for  it  makes 
it  possible  for  the  poor  man  to  know  and  appreciate 


CH.  III.  LIMITS  OF  STATE  ACTION  333 

works  of  art  which,  without  State  intervention,  he 
would  have  never  seen,  and  which  would  have  been 
wholly  in  the  hands  of  the  rich  and  cultivated  few. 
The  total  indifference  of  English  Governments  during 
a  long  period  to  artistic  development  is  one  of  the 
great  causes  that  art  has  flowered  so  tardily  in  Eng- 
land. 

In  many  countries  in  Europe  dramatic  art  is  assisted 
by  subsidies  to  the  opera  and  the  classical  theatre. 
Such  subsidies  stand  on  a  different  ground  from  those 
which  I  have  just  noticed,  for  they  minister  directly  to 
the  pleasures  of  the  rich  ;  though  a  brilliant  theatre, 
by  drawing  many  strangers  to  the  metropolis,  probably 
ultimately  benefits  the  poor.  It  is  not  likely  that  Eng- 
lish democratic  opinion  would  tolerate  an  expenditure 
of  this  kind  ;  and  it  may  be  observed  that  the  con- 
nection between  Governments  and  amusement  is  much 
closer  in  most  Continental  countries  than  in  England. 
In  these  countries  a  large  portion  of  the  money  raised 
for  the  relief  of  the  poor  and  the  suffering  is  levied 
upon  public  amusements.^ 

The  objections  to  the  vast  extension  of  State  regula- 
tions and  of  State  subsidies  are  very  many.  There  is, 
in  the  first  place,  what  may  be  called  the  argument  of 
momentum,  which  Herbert  Spencer  has  elaborated 
with  consummate  skill  and  force.^  It  is  absolutely 
certain  that,  when  this  system  is  largely  adopted,  it 
will  not  remain  within  the  limits  which  those  who 
adopted  it  intended.  It  will  advance  with  an  accele- 
rated rapidity ;  every  concession  becomes  a  precedent 
or  basis  for  another  step,  till  the  habit  is  fully  formed 
of  looking  on  all  occasions  for  State  assistance  or  re- 


»  See   Le    droit  des  pauvres      par  Cros-Mayrevielle  (1889). 
sur  les  spectacles    en    Europe.^         '  The  Man  versus  the  State. 


334  DEMOCRACY  AND   LIBERTY  ch.  in. 

striction,  and  till  a  weight  of  taxation  and  debt  has 
been  accumulated  from  which  the  first  advocates  of  the 
movement  would  have  shrunk  with  horror.  There  is 
the  weakening  of  private  enterprise  and  philanthropy  ; 
a  lowered  sense  of  individual  resjionsibility  ;  diminished 
love  of  freedom  ;  the  creation  of  an  increasing  army  of 
officials,  regulating  in  all  its  departments  the  affairs  of 
life  ;  the  formation  of  a  state  of  society  in  which  vast 
multitudes  depend  for  their  subsistence  on  the  bounty 
of  the  State.  All  this  cannot  take  place  without  im- 
pairing the  springs  of  self-reliance,  independence,  and 
resolution,  without  gradually  enfeebling  both  the 
judgment  and  the  character.  It  produces  also  a  weight 
of  taxation  which,  as  the  past  experience  of  the  world 
abundantly  shows,  may  easily  reach  a  point  that  means 
national  ruin.  An  undue  proportion  of  the  means 
of  the  individual  is  forcibly  taken  from  him  by  the 
State,  and  much  of  it  is  taken  from  the  most  indus- 
trious and  saving,  for  the  benefit  of  those  who  have 
been  idle  or  improvident.  Capital  and  industry  leave 
a  country  where  they  are  extravagantly  burdened  and 
have  ceased  to  be  profitable,  and  even  the  land  itself 
has  often  been  thrown  out  of  cultivation  on  account  of 
the  weight  of  an  excessive  taxation. 

The  tendency  to  constantly  increasing  expenses  in 
local  taxation  is,  in  some  degree,  curtailed  by  enact- 
ments of  the  Imperial  Parliament  limiting  in  various 
ways  the  powers  which  it  concedes  to  local  bodies  of 
raising  taxes  or  incurring  debts.  That  the  restrictions 
are  of  ten  unduly  lax,  few  good  judges  will  question; 
yet  it  is  the  constant  effort  of  local  bodies,  which  are 
under  democratic  influence,  to  extend  their  powers. 
Parliament  itself  is  unlimited,  and  Parliament,  on 
financial  questions,  means  simply  the  House  of  Com- 
mons.    The  constituencies  are  the  only  check,  but  a 


.  CH.  III.  ABUSES  OF  STATE  ACTION  336 

vast  proportion  of  the  expenditure  of  the  State  is  in- 
tended for  the  express  purpose  of  bribing  them.  De- 
mocracy as  it  appeared  in  the  days  of  Joseph  Hume 
was  pre-eminently  a  penurious  thing,  jealously  scruti- 
nising every  item  of  public  expenditure,  denouncing 
as  an  intolerable  scandal  the  extravagance  of  aristo- 
cratic government,  and  viewing  with  extreme  disfavour 
every  enlargement  of  the  powers  of  the  State.  It  has 
now  become,  in  nearly  all  countries,  a  government  of 
lavish  expenditure,  of  rapidly  accumulating  debt,  of 
constantly  extending  State  action. 

It  is,  I  believe,  quite  true  that  the  functions  of 
Government  must  inevitably  increase  with  a  more  com- 
plicated civilisation.  But,  in  estimating  their  enor- 
mous and  portentously  rapid  aggrandisement  within 
the  last  few  years,  there  is  one  grave  question  which 
should  always  be  asked.  Is  that  aggrandisement  due 
to  a  reasoned  conviction  that  Government  can  wisely 
benefit,  directly,  different  classes  by  its  legislation  ?  or 
is  it  due  to  a  very  different  cause — to  the  conviction 
that,  by  promising  legislation  in  favour  of  different 
classes,  the  votes  of  those  classes  may  most  easily  be 
won  ? 

A  large  portion  of  the  increased  expenditure  is  also 
due,  not  to  subsidies,  but  to  the  increased  elaboration 
of  administrative  machinery  required  by  the  system  of 
constant  inspection  and  almost  universal  regulation. 
Nothing  is  more  characteristic  of  the  new  democracy 
than  the  alacrity  with  which  it  tolerates,  welcomes, 
and  demands  coercive  Government  interference  in  all 
its  concerns.  In  the  words  of  Mr.  Goschen,  *  The  ex- 
tension of  State  action  to  new  and  vast  fields  of  busi- 
ness, such  as  telegraphy,  insurance,  annuities,  postal 
orders,  and  parcel  post,  is  not  the  most  striking  fea- 
ture.    What  is  of  far  deeper  imjjort  is  its  growing  in- 


336  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  hi. 

terference  with  the  relations  between  classes,  its  in- 
creased control  over  vast  categories  of  transactions  be- 
tween individuals.  .  .  .  The  parent  in  dealing  with 
his  child,  the  employer  in  dealing  with  his  workmen, 
the  shipbuilder  in  the  construction  of  his  ships,  the 
shipowner  in  the  treatment  of  his  sailors,  the  house- 
owner  in  the  management  of  his  house  property,  the 
landowner  in  his  contracts  with  his  tenants,  have  been 
notified  by  public  opinion  or  by  actual  law  that  the 
time  ha,s  gone  by  when  the  cry  of  laissez-nous  faire 
would  be  answered  in  the  aflBrmative.  The  State  has 
determined  what  is  right  and  wrong,  what  is  expedient 
and  inexpedient,  and  has  appointed  its  agents  to  enforce 
its  conclusions.  Some  of  the  highest  obligations  of  hu- 
manity, some  of  the  smallest  businesses  of  everyday  life, 
some  of  the  most  complicated  transactions  of  our  in- 
dustrial and  agricultural  organisations,  have  been  taken 
in  hand  by  the  State.  Individual  responsibility  has 
been  lessened,  national  responsibility  has  been  height- 
ened.' ' 

Nor  can  the  change  of  tendency  in  this  respect  be 
measured  merely  by  actual  legislation.  It  is  to  be  seen 
still  more  clearly  in  the  countless  demands  for  legisla- 
tive restriction  that  are  multiplying  on  all  sides  ;  in 
the  Bills  which,  though  not  yet  carried  into  law,  have 
received  a  large  amount  of  parliamentary  support ;  in 
the  resolutions  of  trade-union  congresses,  or  county 
councils,  or  philanthropic  meetings  or  associations  ;  in 
the  questions  asked  and  the  pledges  exacted  at  every 
election ;  in  the  great  mass  of  socialistic  or  semi- 
socialistic  literature  that  is  circulating  through  the 
country.      Few  things   would   have  more  astonished 


'  Laissez  faire ;  or,  Government  Interference,  by  the  Right  Hon. 
G.  Goschen.     Address  delivered  at  Edinburgh,  1883,  p.  4. 


CH.  III.  GRADUATED  TAXATION  337 

the  old  Kadicals  of  the  Manchester  school  than  to  be 
told  that  a  strong  leaning  towards  legislative  compul- 
sion was  soon  to  become  one  of  -the  marked  character- 
istics of  an  '  Advanced  Liberal,'  and  '  all  contracts  to 
the  contrary  notwithstanding ' — a  favourite  clause  in 
democratic  legislation. 

Accompanying  this  movement,  and  naturally  grow- 
ing out  of  the  great  change  in  the  disposition  of  power, 
is  the  marked  tendency  to  throw  taxation  to  a  greater 
extent  on  one  class  of  the  community,  in  the  shape  of 
graduated  taxation.  In  certain  forms  and  to  a  certain 
measure  this  has  always  existed  in  England.  The 
shameful  exemption  from  taxation  enjoyed  by  both 
nobles  and  clergy  in  nearly  all  Continental  countries 
up  to  the  eve  of  the  French  Eevolution  was  unknown 
in  England,  and  it  had  always  been  an  English  custom 
to  impose  special  taxes  on  the  luxuries  of  the  rich. 
Tocqueville,  in  a  remarkable  passage,  which  has  been- 
often  quoted,  observed  that  '  for  centuries  the  only 
inequalities  of  taxation  in  England  were  those  which 
had  been  successively  introduced  in  favour  of  the  ne- 
cessitous classes.  ...  In  the  eighteenth  century  it 
was  the  poor  who  enjoyed  exemption  from  taxation  in 
England,  in  France  it  was  the  rich.  In  the  one  case, 
the  aristocracy  had  taken  upon  its  own  shoulders  the 
heaviest  public  charges  in  order  to  be  allowed  to  govern. 
In  the  other  case,  it  retained  to  the  end  an  immunity 
from  taxation  in  order  to  console  itself  for  the  loss  of 
government.' '  Arthur  Young,  in  a  little  speech  which 
he  made  to  a  French  audience  at  the  beginning  of  the 
Revolution,  described  vividly  the  difference  subsisting 
in  this  respect  between  the  two  countries.  '  We  have 
many   taxes,'  he  said,  'in  England  which  you  know 


'  L'Anden  Regime^  pp.  146-47. 
VOL.  I.  22 


338  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  hi. 

nothing  of  in  France,  but  the  tiers  £tat — the  poor — 
do  not  pay  them.  They  are  laid  on  the  rich.  Every 
window  in  a  man's  house  pays,  but  if  he  has  no  more 
than  six  windows  he  pays  nothing.  A  seigneur  with  a 
great  estate  pays  the  vmgtiemes  and  tailles,  but  the 
little  proprietor  of  a  garden  pays  nothing.  The  rich 
pay  for  their  horses,  their  carriages,  their  servants,  and 
even  for  liberty  to  kill  their  own  partridges ;  but  the 
poor  farmer  pays  nothing  of  this ;  and,  what  is  more, 
we  have  in  England  a  tax  paid  by  the  rich  for  the  re- 
lief of  the  poor.'  ^  Both  the  window-tax  and  the  house- 
tax  of  the  eighteenth  century  were  graduated  taxes, 
rising  in  an  increased  proportion  according  to  the  value 
of  the  dwelling.  A  similarly  progressive  scale  of  tax- 
ation was  introduced  by  Pitt  for  carriages,  pleasure- 
horses,  and  male  servants,  the  duty  on  each  of  these 
rising  rapidly  according  to  the  numbers  in  each  estab- 
lishment. 

The  doctrine  that  revenue  should  be  raised  chiefly 
from  luxuries  or  superfluities  has  been  very  largely 
recognised  in  English  taxation,  and  since  the  great 
fiscal  reforms  instituted  by  Sir  Robert  Peel  it  has  been 
carried  out  to  an  almost  complete  extent.  A  working- 
man  who  is  a  teetotaller  and  who  does  not  smoke  is 
now  almost  absolutely  untaxed,  except  in  the  form  of  a 
very  low  duty  on  tea  and  on  coffee.  In  the  opinion  of 
many  good  judges,  this  movement  of  taxation,  though 
essentially  beneficent,  has  been  carried,  in  England,  to 
an  exaggerated  point.  It  is  not  right,  they  say,  that 
any  class  should  be  entirely  exempt  from  all  share  in 
the  Imperial  burden,  especially  when  that  class  is  en- 
trusted with  political  power,  and  has  a  considerable 
voice  in  imposing  and  adjusting  the  expenditure  of  the 


•  Pinkerton's  Voyages^  iv.  200. 


CH.  III.      EXEMPTIONS  FROM  TAXATION        33' 

nation.  Taxes  on  articles  of  universal  consumption 
are  by  far  the  most  productive.  They  ought  always  to 
be  kept  low,  for  when  they  are  heavy  they  produce  not 
only  hardships,  but  injustice,  as  the  poor  would  then 
pay  an  unduly  large  proportion  of  the  national  reve- 
nue ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  their  complete  repeal  is 
a  matter  of  very  doubtful  expediency. 

In  England,  however,  the  policy  of  absolutely  abol- 
ishing the  taxes  on  the  chief  objects  of  a  poor  man's 
necessary  consumption  has  been  steadily  carried  out  by 
both  parties  in  the  State.  Tory  Governments  abol- 
ished the  salt  duty  in  1825  and  (after  many  reductions) 
the  sugar  duty  in  1874 ;  while  Liberal  Governments 
abolished  the  coal  duty  and  the  tax  on  candles  in  1831, 
the  last  vestige  of  the  corn  duty  in  1869,  the  taxes  on 
soap  and  on  licenses  for  making  it  in  1853  and  1870. 
Both  parties  have  also  concurred  in  freeing  nearly 
every  article  of  a  working-man's  attire,  by  removing 
the  duties  on  wool,  calico,  and  leather.*  It  may  be 
questioned  whether  this  policy  has  been  carried  to  its 
present  extreme  because  legislators  believed  it  to  be 
wise,  or  because  they  believed  that  it  would  prove  popu- 
lar with  the  electors.  Such  measures  furnish  exactly 
the  kind  of  topic  that  is  most  useful  on  the  platform. 

There  is  another  principle  of  taxation  which  has 
been  advocated  by  Bentham  and  Mill,  and  which,  be- 
fore their  time,  was  propounded  by  Montesquieu.  It 
is  that  a  minimum  income  which  is  sufficient  to  secure 
to  a  labouring  family  of  moderate  size  the  bare  neces- 
saries, though  not  the  luxuries,  of  life,  should  remain 
exempt  from  all  taxation.  Strictly  speaking,  this  prin- 
ciple is,  no  doubt,  inconsistent  Avith  the  imposition  of 
taxation  on  any  article  of  first  necessity  ;  but  it  has 


'  Dowell's  History  of  Taxation. 


340  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  hi. 

been  largely  adopted  in  England  in  the  exemption  of 
the  poorest  class  of  houses  from  taxation,  and  in  the 
partial  or  complete  exemption  of  small  incomes  from 
the  income-tax.  Successive  Acts  of  Parliament  have 
wholly  freed  incomes  under  100/.,  under  150/.,  and  un- 
der 160/.  a  year  from  the  tax,  and  have  granted  abate- 
ments in  the  case  of  incomes  under  200/.,  under  400/., 
under  500/.,  and,  finally,  in  the  budget  of  1898  under 
700/.  a  year.  The  large  majority  of  the  electors  who 
return  the  members  of  the  House  of  Commons  now  pay 
nothing  to  the  income-tax. 

By  all  these  measures  a  system  of  graduated  taxation 
has  steadily  grown  up.  A  few  lines  from  a  speech  made 
by  Lord  Derby  in  1885  give  a  clear  picture  of  what  in 
his  day  had  been  done.  '  Take  the  income-tax.  We 
exempt  altogether  incomes  up  to  a  certain  point,  and 
we  exempt  them  partially  up  to  a  higher  point.  Take 
the  house-tax.  What  have  you  got  there  ?  Total 
exemption  of  all  that  class  of  houses  in  which  working- 
men  usually  live.  Take  the  death  duties.  They  abso- 
lutely spare  property  below  a  certain  limited  amount. 
Take  the  carriage-tax.  The  class  of  conveyances  used 
by  poor  persons,  or  used  otherwise  than  for  purposes  of 
pleasure,  are  made  specially  free  of  charge.  Take  the 
railway-passenger  tax.  It  falls  on  first  and  second  class 
passengers,  and  leaves  the  third  class  untouched.  .  .  . 
In  our  poor  law,  now  300  years  old,  we  have  adopted  a 
system  so  socialistic  in  principle  that  no  Continental 
Government  would  venture  even  to  look  at  it.^^ 

Articles  of  luxury  or  ostentation  used  exclusively  by 
the  rich  are,  in  many  instances,  specially  taxed.  Such, 
for  example,  are  the  taxes  on  armorial  bearings,  on  the 
more  expensive  qualities  of  wine,  on  menservants,  and 
on  sporting.     In  some  cases  taxes  of  this  kind  have 


The  Times,  November  2,  1885. 


CH.  III.  PRINCIPLE  OF  JUST  TAXATION  341 

been  abolished,  because  the  expense  of  collecting  them, 
or  the  expense  of  distinguishing  between  the  better  and 
the  cheaper  descriptions  of  a  single  article,  made  them 
nearly  wholly  unproductive.  But,  in  general,  the 
strong  leaning  of  our  present  system  in  favour  of  the 
poor  cannot  reasonably  be  questioned  ;  and  it  becomes 
still  more  apparent  when  we  consider  not  merely  the 
sources,  but  the  application,  of  the  taxes.  The  pro- 
tection of  life,  industry,  and  even  property,  is  quite  as 
important  to  the  poor  man  as  to  the  rich,  and  the  most 
costly  functions  which  Governments  have  of  late  years 
assumed  are  mainly  for  his  benefit.  Primary  educa- 
tion, the  improvement  of  working-men's  dwellings, 
factory  inspection,  savings  banks,  and  other  means  of 
encouraging  thrift,  are  essentially  poor  men's  questions. 

Adam  Smith,  in  a  well-known  passage,  has  laid  down 
the  principle  on  which,  in  strict  equity,  taxation  should 
be  levied.  '  The  subjects  of  every  State  ought  to  con- 
tribute to  the  support  of  the  Government  as  nearly  as 
possible  in  proportion  to  their  respective  abilities  ;  that 
is,  in  proportion  to  the  revenue  which  they  respectively 
enjoy  under  the  protection  of  the  State.  The  expense 
of  government  to  the  individuals  of  a  great  nation  is 
like  the  expense  of  management  to  the  joint-tenants  of 
a  great  estate,  who  are  all  obliged  to  contribute  in  pro- 
portion to  their  respective  interests  in  the  estate.'^ 

According  to  this  principle,  the  man  with  1,000?.  a 
year  should  pay  ten  times  the  taxes  of  a  man  with  100?. 
a  year,  and  the  man  with  10,000?.  a  year  ten  times  the 
taxes  of  a  man  with  1,000?.  a  year.  In  the  words  of 
Thiers,  '  Every  kind  of  revenue,  without  exception, 
ought  to  contribute  to  the  needs  of  the  State,  for  all 
depend  upon  it  for  their  existence.     Every  exemption 


Wealth  of  Nations,  Book  v.  chapter  ii. 


342  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  iii. 

from  taxation  is  an  injustice.  .  .  .  The  true  principle, 
whicli  was  established  in  1789,  is  that  every  man,  with- 
out exception,  in  proportion  to  what  he  gains  or  what 
he  possesses,  should  contribute.  To  exempt  labour  in 
order  to  strike  property,  or  to  tax  property  in  exor- 
bitant proportions,  would  only"be  to  add  a  new  iniquity 
as  great  as  that  which  was  abolished  in  1789.  .  .  . 
Society  is  a  company  of  mutual  insurance,  in  which 
each  man  should  pay  the  risk  in  proportion  to  the 
amount  of  property  insured.  If  he  has  insured  a  house 
of  the  value  of  100,000  francs  (the  rate  being  1  per 
cent.),  he  owes  1,000  francs  to  the  comj)any.  If  the 
insured  house  is  worth  a  million,  he  owes  10,000  francs. 
.  .  .  Society  is  a  company,  in  which  each  man  has 
more  or  less  shares,  and  it  is  just  that  each  should  pay 
in  proportion  to  their  number,  whether  they  be  ten,  or 
100,  or  1,000,  but  always  according  to  the  same  rate 
imposed  on  all.  There  should  be  one  rule  for  all, 
neither  more  nor  less.  To  abandon  this  would  be  as 
if  a  merchant  were  to  say  to  his  customers,  "  You  are 
richer  than  your  neighbour,  and  must  therefore  pay 
more  for  the  same  goods. ""  It  would  only  lead  to  end- 
less confusion,  and  open  out  boundless,  incalculable, 
possibilities  of  arbitrary  imposition.'^ 

The  great  majority  of  serious  economists  have,  I  be- 
lieve, agreed  that,  as  a  matter  of  strict  right,  tliis  doc- 
trine is  the  true  one.  Adam  Smith,  however,  clearly 
saw  that  human  affairs  cannot,  or  will  not,  be  governed 
by  the  strict  lines  of  economic  science,  and  he  fully 
recognised  that  it  may  be  expedient  that  taxes  should 
be  so  regulated  that  the  rich  should  pay  in  proportion 
something  more  than  the  poor.  In  England,  the  sys- 
tem of  graduated  taxation  which  I  have  described  has 


I  La  Propriete^  livre  iv.  chaps,  ii.,  iii. 


CH.  m.  GRADUATED  TAXATION  343 

passed  fully  into  the  national  habits,  and  is  accepted 
by  all  parties.  The  taxation  of  luxuries,  as  distin- 
guished from  necessaries,  has  been  productive  of  much 
good,  and  is  much  less  liable  than  other  forms  of  gradu- 
ated taxation  to  abuse.  The  exemption  of  small  in- 
comes from  all  direct  taxation  undoubtedly  brings  with 
it  grave  dangers,  especially  when  those  who  are  ex- 
empted form  the  bulk  of  the  electorate,  and  are  thus 
able  to  increase  this  taxation  to  an  indefinite  extent, 
without  any  manifest  sacrifice  to  themselves.  At  the 
same  time,  few  persons  will  object  to  these  exemptions, 
provided  they  are  kept  within  reasonable  limits,  are 
intended  solely  as  measures  of  relief,  and  do  not  lead  to 
lavish  expenditure.  It  does  not  necessarily  follow  that, 
because  a  class  are  a  minority  in  the  electorate,  they 
are  in  grave  danger  of  being  unduly  taxed.  As  long  as 
they  still  form  a  sufiiciently  considerable  portion  to 
turn  the  balance  in  elections,  they  have  the  means  of 
vindicating  their  rights.  It  is  the  duty  of  the  Govern- 
ment to  provide  that  the  taxes  are  moderate  in  amount, 
and  are  levied  for  the  bo)id  fide  purpose  of  discharging 
functions  which  are  necessary  or  highly  useful  to  the 
State.  There  is,  however,  another  conception  of  taxa- 
tion, which  has  of  late  years  been  rapidly  growing.  It 
has  come  to  be  regarded  as  a  socialistic  weapon,  as  an 
instrument  of  confiscation,  as  a  levelling  agent  for 
breaking  down  large  fortunes,  redistributing  wealth, 
and  creating  a  new  social  type. 

The  growing  popularity  of  graduated  taxation  in  the 
two  forms  of  an  exemption  of  the  smaller  incomes  from 
all  direct  taxation,  and  of  the  taxation  of  large  incomes 
on  a  different  scale  or  percentage  from  moderate  ones, 
is  very  evident,  and  it  is  accompanied  by  an  equally 
strong  tendency  towards  a  graduated  taxation  of  capi- 
tal and  successions.     Precedents  may,  no  doubt,  be 


344  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  iir. 

found  in  earlier  times.  A  graduated  income-tax  ex- 
isted in  ancient  Athens,  and  was  warmly  praised  by 
Montesquieu.  Graduated  taxation  was  imposed  with 
much  severity  and  elaborated  with  great  ingenuity  in 
Florence  in  the  fourteenth,  fifteenth,  and  sixteenth 
centuries.  But  it  is  chiefly  of  late  years,  and  since 
democratic  influence  has  predominated,  that  the  ques- 
tion of  graduated  taxation  has  been  pushed  into  the 
forefront.  It  exists,  though  only  to  a  very  moderate 
degree,  in  Prussia  and  most  of  the  German  States,  and 
a  Prussian  law  of  1883  considerably  enlarged  the  num- 
ber of  exemptions.^  It  prevails  in  slightly  different 
forms  in  a  large  number  of  the  Swiss  cantons,  and 
especially  in  the  cantons  of  Vaud,  Zurich,  Geneva,  Uri, 
and  the  Grisons.  Thus,  in  the  Canton  de  Vaud  real 
property  is  divided  into  three  classes — properties  of  a 
value  not  exceeding  1,000Z.,  properties  that  are  valued 
between  1,000Z.  and  4,000?.,  and  properties  of  a  value 
above  4,000/.  The  first  class  are  taxed  at  the  rate  of 
11.,  the  second  at  the  rate  of  1/.  10s.,  and  the  third  at 
the  rate  of  21.  per  1,000?.  Personal  property  is  divided 
into  seven  classes,  each  of  them  taxed  at  a  separate  rate. 
Fortunes  exceeding  in  capital  value  32,000?.,  and  in- 
comes exceeding  1,600?.,  are  subject  to  the  highest 
rate.  In  Zurich  a  different  system  is  adopted.  Though 
both  capital  and  income  are  progressively  taxed,  the 
rate  of  that  tax  is  the  same  for  all,  but  the  amount 
liable  to  taxation  becomes  proportionately  larger  as  the 
fortune  or  the  income  increases.  Thus,  five-tenths  of 
the  first  800?,  of  a  capital  fortune,  six-tenths  of  the 
next  1,200?.,  seven-tenths  of  the  next  2,000?.,  eight- 


'  Leroy-Beaulieu,  Traite  des  Finances,  i.  139-74;  Say,  Solutions 
Democratiques  de  la  Question  des  Impots,  ii.  184-224. 


CH.  III.  GRADUATED   TAXATION  345 

tenths  of  the  next  4,000?.,  and  ten-tenths  of  anything 
above  it,  are  taxed.  ^ 

In  the  Netherlands  the  capital  value  of  every  fortune 
has,  by  a  recent  law,  to  be  annually  stated,  and  it  is 
taxed  according  to  that  value  on  a  graduated  scale. 
Ten  thousand  florins  are  untaxed ;  after  that  the  tax 
on  capital  gradually  rises  from  one  to  two  in  a  thou- 
sand. There  is  also  a  progressive  tax  on  revenue,  but 
with  exemptions  intended  to  prevent  capital  from  being 
twice  taxed.  In  New  Zealand  and  the  Australian  colo- 
nies there  is  much  graduated  taxation,  chiefly  directed 
against  the  growth  of  large  landed  properties.  In  New 
Zealand  the  ordinary  land-tax  is  thrown  upon  12,000 
out  of  90,000  owners  of  land.  There  is  an  additional 
and  graduated  land-tax  on  properties  which,  after  de- 
ducting the  value  of  improvements,  are  worth  5,000Z. 
and  upwards.  It  rises  from  ^d.  to  2d.  in  the  pound, 
and  there  is  also  a  special  and  graduated  tax  on  absen- 
tees. The  income-tax  is  6d.  in  the  pound  on  the  first 
taxable  1,000?.,  and  Is.  in  the  pound  on  higher  rates.^ 
In  Victoria  there  is  a  graduated  succession  duty,  vary- 
ing from  1  to  10  per  cent.^  In  France  the  question  of 
graduated,  or,  as  it  is  called,  progressive,  taxation  has 
of  late  been  much  discussed  ;  but,  with  the  exception 
of  a  graduated  house-tax,^  attempts  in  this  direction 
have,  until  quite  recently,  been  defeated.  In  the  United 
States,  as  I  have  noticed  in  a  former  chapter,  proposals 
for  graduated  taxation  have  received  a  serious  check 
in  the  decision  of  the  Supreme  Court  in  1894,  which 
appears  to  establish  that,  in  the  imposition  of  direct 
Federal  taxation,  the   Congress  must   only  recognise 


'  See  a  Foreign  Office  Eeport  Book,  1894,  pp.  245-47. 

on  Graduated  Taxation  in  Swit-  *  Dilke's  Problems  of  Greater 

zerland  (1892).  Britain,  ii.  277. 

*  New  Zealand   Official    Year  "  Ibid.  pp.  278-79. 


346  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  hi. 

State  divisions  and  the  number  of  citizens.  During 
the  war  of  secession,  however,  a  graduated  income-tax 
for  a  short  time  existed.  The  first  war  income-tax, 
which  was  established  in  1861,  taxed  all  incomes  above 
800  dollars  at  the  same  rate ;  but  the  second  income- 
tax,  which  was  enacted  in  July  1862,  established  a 
system  of  graduation,  which  was,  however,  nearly  all 
repealed  in  1865.  The  English  Budget  of  1894  went  far 
in  the  direction  of  graduated  taxation,  both  by  the  ad- 
ditional exemptions  granted  in  the  income-tax  and  by 
the  new  system  of  graduation. 

Eecent  discussions  have  made  the  arguments  which 
have  been  adduced  by  economists  against  graduated 
taxation  very  familiar.  It  is  obvious  that  a  graduated 
tax  is  a  direct  penalty  imposed  on  saving  and  industry, 
a  direct  premium  offered  to  idleness  and  extravagance. 
It  discourages  the  very  habits  and  qualities  which  it 
is  most  in  the  interest  of  the  State  to  foster,  and  it  is 
certain,  to  operate  forcibly  where  fortunes  approach  the 
limits  at  which  a  higher  scale  of  taxation  begins.  It  is 
a  strong  inducement  at  that  period,  either  to  cease  to 
work  or  to  cease  to  save.  It  is  at  the  same  time  per- 
fectly arbitrary.  When  the  principle  of  taxing  all  for- 
tunes on  the  same  rate  of  computation  is  abandoned, 
no  definite  rule  or  principle  remains.  At  what  point 
the  higher  scale  is  to  begin,  or  to  what  degree  it  is  to 
be  raised,  depends  wholly  on  the  policy  of  Governments 
and  the  balance  of  parties.  The  ascending  scale  may 
at  first  be  very  moderate,  but  it  may  at  any  time,  when 
fresh  taxes  are  required,  be  made  more  severe,  till  it 
reaches  or  approaches  the  point  of  confiscation.  No 
fixed  line  or  amount  of  graduation  can  be  maintained 
upon  principle,  or  with  any  chance  of  finality.  The 
whole  matter  will  depend  upon  the  interests  and  wishes 
of  the  electors  ;  upon  party  politicians  seeking  for  a 


CH.  iiL  GRADUATED  TAXATION  347 

cry  and  competing  for  the  rotes  of  very  poor  and  very 
ignorant  men.  Under  such  a  system  all  large  proper- 
ties may  easily  be  made  unsafe,  and  an  insecurity  may 
arise  which  will  be  fatal  to  all  great  financial  under- 
takings. The  most  serious  restraint  on  parliamentary 
extravagance  will,  at  the  same  time,  be  taken  away, 
and  majorities  will  be  invested  with  the  easiest  and 
most  powerful  instrument  of  oppression.  Highly  gra- 
duated taxation  realises  most  completely  the  supreme 
danger  of  democracy,  creating  a  state  of  things  in 
which  one  class  imposes  on  another  burdens  which"  it 
is  not  asked  to  share,  and  impels  the  State  into  vast 
schemes  of  extravagance,  under  the  belief  that  the 
whole  cost  will  be  thrown  upon  others. 

The  belief  is,  no  doubt,  very  fallacious,  but  it  is  very 
natural,  and  it  lends  itself  most  easily  to  the  clap-trap 
of  dishonest  politicians.  Such  men  will  have  no  diffi- 
culty in  drawing  impressive  contrasts  between  the  luxu- 
ry of  the  rich  and  the  necessities  of  the  poor,  and  in 
persuading  ignorant  men  that  there  can  be  no  harm  in 
throwing  great  burdens  of  exceptional  taxation  on  a 
few  men,  who  will  still  remain  immeasurably  richer 
than  themselves.  Yet,  no  truth  of  political  economy 
is  more  certain  than  that  a  heavy  taxation  of  capital, 
which  starves  industry  and  employment,  will  fall  most 
severely  on  the  poor.  Graduated  taxation,  if  it  is  ex- 
cessive or  frequently  raised,  is  inevitably  largely  drawn 
from  capital.  It  discourages  its  accumulation.  It 
produces  an  insecurity  which  is  fatal  to  its  stability,  and 
it  is  certain  to  drive  great  masses  of  it  to  other  lands. 

The  amount  to  be  derived  from  this  species  of  taxa- 
tion is  also  much  exaggerated.  The  fortunes  of  a  few 
millionaires  make  a  great  show  in  the  world,  but  they 
form  in  reality  a  very  insignificant  sum,  compared 
with  the  aggregate  of  moderate  fortunes  and  small  sav- 


348  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  hi. 

ings.  Unless  the  system  of  graduation  be  extended,  as 
in  Switzerland,  to  very  moderate  fortunes,  it  will  pro- 
duce little,  and  even  then  the  exemptions  that  accom- 
pany it  will  go  far  to  balance  it.  It  is  certain,  too,  that 
it  will  be  largely  evaded.  There  is,  it  is  true,  a  great 
distinction  to  be  drawn  in  this  respect  between  real 
and  personal  property.  Land  is  of  such  a  nature  that 
it  cannot  escape  the  burden  which  is  imposed  on  it, 
but  there  are  many  ways  in  which  personal  property 
can  escape.  Confidential  arrangements  between  mem- 
bers of  a  family  or  partners  in  a  business,  foreign  in- 
vestments payable  to  foreign  bankers,  an  increasing 
portion  of  wealth  sunk  in  life  annuities,  insurances 
made  in  companies  that  are  not  subject  to  British  taxa- 
tion, securities  payable  to  bearer,  which  it  will  be  im- 
possible to  trace,  will  all  multiply,  and  the  frauds  that 
are  so  much  complained  of  in  income-tax  returns  will 
certainly  increase.  No  graver  error  can  be  made  by 
a  financier  than  to  institute  a  system  which  is  so  bur- 
densome and  so  unjust  that  men  will  be  disposed  to 
employ  all  their  ingenuity  to  evade  it.  With  the  vast 
and  various  field  of  international  investment  that  is 
now  open  to  them  they  are  sure,  in  innumerable  in- 
stances, to  succeed,  and  no  declaration,  no  oath,  no 
penalty  will  effectually  prevent  it.  Taxation  is,  ul- 
timately, the  payment  which  is  made  by  the  subject 
for  the  security  and  other  advantages  which  he  derives 
from  the  State.  If  the  taxation  of  one  class  is  out  of 
all  proportion  to  the  cost  of  the  protection  they  enjoy  ; 
if  its  members  are  convinced  that  it  is  not  an  equitable 
payment,  but  an  exceptional  and  confiscatory  burden 
imposed  upon  them  by  an  act  of  power  because  they 
are  politically  weak,  very  many  of  them  will  have  no 
more  scruple  in  defrauding  the  Government  than  they 
would  have  in  deceiving  a  highwayman  or  a  burglar. 


CH.  HI.  GRADUATED  TAXATION  349 

It  would  be  pressing  these  arguments  too  far  to 
maintain  that  a  graduated  scale  of  taxation  is  always 
and  necessarily  an  evil.  In  this,  as  in  most  political 
questions,  much  will  depend  upon  circumstances  and 
degrees.  It  is,  however,  sufficiently  clear  that  any 
financier  who  enters  on  this  field  is  entering  on  a 
path  surrounded  with  grave  and  various  dangers. 
Graduated  taxation  is  certain  to  be  contagious,  and  it 
is  certain  not  to  rest  within  the  limits  that  its  origina- 
tors desired.  No  one  who  clearly  reads  the  signs  of 
the  times  as  they  are  shown  in  so  many  lands  can  doubt 
that  this  system  of  taxation  is  likely  to  increase.  It 
would  be  hardly  possible  that  it  should  be  otherwise 
when  political  power  is  placed  mainly  in  the  hands  of 
the  working-classes  ;  when  vast  masses  of  landed  pro- 
perty are  accumulated  in  a  few  hands  ;  when  profession- 
al politicians  are  continually  making  changes  in  the 
incidence  of  taxation  a  prominent  part  of  their  elec- 
tioneering programmes ;  when  almost  every  year  en- 
larges the  functions,  and  therefore  the  expenditure, 
of  the  State ;  when  nearly  all  the  prevalent  Utopias 
take  a  socialistic  form,  and  point  to  an  equalisation  of 
conditions  by  means  of  taxation.  Under  such  condi- 
tions the  temptation  to  enter  upon  this  path  becomes 
almost  invincible. 

It  is  a  question  of  great  importance  to  consider  to 
what  result  it  is  likely  to  lead.  To  suppose  that  any 
system  of  taxation  can  possibly  produce  a  real  equality 
of  fortunes,  or  prevent  the  accumulation  of  great 
wealth,  seems  to  me  wholly  chimerical ;  though  it  is 
quite  possible  that  legislators  in  aiming  at  these  objects 
may  ruin  national  credit,  and  bring  about  a  period  of 
rapid  commercial  decadence.  Highly  graduated  taxa- 
tion, however,  is  likely  to  have  great  political  and  social 
effects  in  transforming  the  character  of  wealth.    It  will 


350  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  ill. 

probably  exercise  a  special  influence  on  landed  property, 
breaking  up  or  greatly  diminishing  tliose  vast  estates 
which  are  so  distinctive  a  feature  of  English  life.  The 
tendencies  which  are  in  operation  acting  in  this  direc- 
tion are  very  powerful.  Land,  as  it  is  at  present  held 
by  the  great  proprietors,  is  usually  one  of  the  least 
profitable  forms  of  property.  The  political  influence 
attached  to  it  has  greatly  diminished.  The  magisteri- 
al and  other  administrative  functions,  that  once  gave 
the  great  landlord  an  almost  commanding  influence  in 
his  county,  are  being  steadily  taken  away,  and  county 
government  in  all  its  forms  is  passing  into  other  hands. 
If  government  is  effectually  divorced  from  property, 
and  if  a  system  of  graduated  taxation  intended  to 
equalise  fortunes  becomes  popular,  great  masses  of 
immovable  land  must  become  one  of  the  most  unde- 
sirable forms  of  property.  No  other  excites  so  much 
cupidity,  or  is  so  much  exposed  to  predatory  legisla- 
tion. Under  all  these  circumstances,  we  may  expect 
to  see  among  the  great  landowners  a  growing  desire  to 
diminish  gradually  their  stake  in  the  land,  thus  re- 
versing the  tendency  to  agglomeration  which  for  many 
generations  has  been  dominant. 

The  change,  in  my  opinion,  will  not  be  wholly  evil. 
It  is  not  a  natural  thing  that  four  or  five  country  places 
should  be  held  by  one  man  ;  that  whole  counties  should 
be  almost  included  in  one  gigantic  property ;  that  square 
miles  of  territory  should  be  enclosed  in  a  single  park. 
The  scale  of  luxury  and  expenditure  in  English  country 
life  is  too  high.  The  machinery  of  life  is  too  cumber- 
some. Its  pleasures  are  costly  out  of  all  proportion  to 
the  enjoyment  they  give.  Nor,  on  the  other  hand,  is 
it  desirable  that  great  landed  properties  should  be  held 
together  when  the  fixed  and  necessary  charges  are  so 
great  that  they  become  overwhelming  whenever  agri- 


CH.  III.  ENGLISH  COUNTRY  LIFE  351 

cultural  depression,  or  any  other  form  of  adversity, 
arrives,  while  the  girls  and  younger  children  of  the 
family  are  left  to  a  poverty  which  seems  all  the  more 
acute  from  the  luxurious  surroundings  in  which  they 
have  been  brought  up.  If  the  result  of  graduated  tax- 
ation should  be  to  produce  a  more  equal  division  of 
property  between  the  members  of  a  family  ;  if  rich  men, 
instead  of  making  an  allowance  to  their  sons,  should 
seek  to  avoid  death  duties  by  capitalising  and  at  once 
handing  over  the  amount ;  if  the  preservation  of  game 
should  be  on  a  less  extravagant  scale ;  if  estates  should 
become  smaller  and  less  encumbered,  and  the  habits  of 
great  country  houses  somewhat  less  luxurious  than  at 
present,  these  things  would  not  injure  the  country. 

Other  consequences,  however,  of  a  far  less  desirable 
character  are  certain  to  ensue,  and  they  are  conse- 
quences that  will  fall  more  heavily  upon  the  poor  than 
upon  the  rich.  Only  a  very  small  fraction  of  the  ex- 
penditure of  a  great  landowner  can  be  said  to  contri- 
bute in  any  real  degree  to  his  own  enjoyment.  Tlie 
vast  cost  of  keeping  up  a  great  place,  and  the  scale  of 
luxurious  hospitality  which  the  conventionalities  of 
society  impose,  count  for  much.  Parks  maintained 
at  great  expense,  and  habitually  thrown  open  to  public 
enjoyment ;  the  village  school,  or  church,  or  institute 
established  and  endowed  ;  all  local  charities,  all  county 
enterprises  largely  assisted  ;  costly  improvements,  which 
no  poor  landlord  could  afford  ;  much  work  given  for  the 
express  purpose  of  securing  steady  employment  to  the 
poor, — these  things  form  the  largest  items  in  the  budget 
of  many  of  the  great  landowners.  Nor  should  we  omit 
to  mention  remissions  of  rent  in  times  of  depression 
which  no  poor  man  could  afford  to  make,  and  very  low 
rents  kept  unchanged  during  long  periods  of  increasing 
prosperity. 


'652  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  hi. 

In  every  considerable  class  there  will  be  the  good  and 
the  bad,  the  generous  and  the  grasping ;  but,  on  the 
whole,  no  candid  man  will  deny  the  extremely  liberal 
spirit  in  which  the  large  landed  properties  in  England 
have  been  administered.  Whatever  ultimate  benefits 
may  be  obtained  by  their  dissolution,  it  is  certain  that 
the  first  effect  will  be  to  extinguish  great  centres  of 
beneficence  and  civilisation,  to  diminish  employment, 
to  increase  the  severity  of  contracts,  and  in  many  other 
ways  to  curtail  the  pleasures  and  augment  the  hard- 
ships of  the  deserving  poor.  It  is  often  said  that 
wealthy  Americans,  not  having  the  ambition  of  found- 
ing families,  give  more  than  wealthy  Englishmen  for 
public  purposes ;  but  I  believe  that  an  examination  of 
the  unselfish  expenditure  of  the  larger  English  land- 
lords on  objects  connected  with  their  estates  would 
show  that  they  in  this  respect  fall  little,  if  at  all,  below 
the  Transatlantic  example.  It  is,  probably,  only  in 
England  that  we  frequently  see  the  curious  spectacle 
of  men  with  incomes  of  several  thousands  a  year  over- 
whelmed by  lifelong  pecuniary  troubles,  not  because  of 
any  improvidence,  or  luxurious  habits  or  tastes,  but 
simply  because  their  incomes  are  insufficient  to  bear 
the  necessary  expenses  of  their  great  position. 

It  seems  likely,  under  the  infiuences  I  have  described, 
that  a  great  change,  both  for  good  and  evil,  will  take 
place.  Land  will  probably,  in  future,  be  more  divided, 
will  change  hands  more  frequently,  will  be  treated  in  a 
more  purely  commercial  spirit  than  in  the  past.  Coun- 
try places  taken  for  mere  pleasure,  and  unconnected 
with  any  surrounding  property  or  any  landlord  duties, 
will  be  more  frequent.  It  is  not  probable  that  yeomen 
farmers  will  multiply  as  long  as  it  is  economically  more 
advantageous  for  a  farmer  to  rent  than  to  purchase  his 
farm ;  but  land  will  be  bought  and  sold  more  frequently. 


OH.  III.  PROBABLE  CHANGES  353 

in  moderate  quantities,  as  a  speculation,  let  at  its  ex- 
treme value,  and  divested  of  all  the  feudal  ideas  that 
are  still  connected  with  it.  The  old  historic  houses 
will,  no  doubt,  remain,  but  they  will  remain,  like  the 
French  castles  along  the  Loire,  memories  of  a  state  of 
society  that  has  passed  away.  Many  will  be  in  the 
hands  of  rich  merchants  or  brewers,  and  perhaps 
American  millionaires.  They  will  often  be  shut  up, 
as  a  measure  of  economy,  for  long  periods.  They  will 
no  longer  be  the  centres  of  great  landed  properties,  or 
represent  a  great  county  influence  or  a  long  train  of 
useful  duties.  Parks  will  be  divided.  Picture-gal- 
leries will  be  broken  up.  Many  noble  works  of  art 
will  cross  the  Atlantic.  The  old  type  of  English 
country  life  will  be  changed,  and  much  of  its  ancient 
beauty  will  have  passed  away. 

Assuming,  as  is  most  probable,  that  these  changes 
are  effected  gradually  and  without  violent  convulsion, 
they  by  no  means  imply  the  impoverishment  of  those 
who  are  now  the  great  landed  proprietors.  No  one  can 
doubt  that,  at  the  present  day,  the  members  of  this 
class  would  be  better  off  if  they  had  less  land  and  more 
money ;  if  their  properties  were  in  such  forms  that 
they  had  more  power  of  modifying  their  expenditure 
according  to  their  means.  They  will  have  to  pass 
through  a  trying  period  of  transition,  but,  as  they  are 
remarkably  free  from  the  prejudices  and  narrow  con- 
ventionalities that  incapacitate  some  Continental  aris- 
tocracies in  the  battle  of  life,  they  will,  probably,  soon 
adapt  themselves  to  their  new  circumstances.  With 
ordinary  good  fortune,  with  skilful  management,  with 
the  rich  marriages  they  can  always  command,  with  the 
excellent  legal  advice  that  is  always  at  their  disposal, 
they  will  probably  succeed  in  many  instances  in  keep- 
ing together  enormous  fortunes,  and  the  time  is  far 
VOL.  I.  33 


364  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  iii, 

distant  when  a  really  able  man,  bearing  an  historic 
name,  does  not  find  that  name  an  assistance  to  him  in 
Jiis  career.  But  the  class  will  have  lost  their  territorial 
influence.  Public  life,  dominated,  or  at  least  largely- 
influenced,  by  professional  politicians  of  the  American 
type,  will  become  more  distasteful  to  them.  They  will 
find  themselves  with  few  landlord  or  county  duties, 
and  with  much  less  necessary  hospitality  to  perform, 
and  they  will  probably  content  themselves  with  smaller 
country  establishments,  and  spend  much  more  of  their 
time  in  brighter  lands  beyond  the  sea. 

The  effects  of  highly  graduated  taxation  on  personal 
property  will  also  be  considerable,  but  probably  not  so 
great  as  on  real  property.  It  will  strengthen  the  dis- 
position of  a  rich  man  to  divide  as  much  as  possible  his 
investments,  as  all  great  masses  of  homogeneous,  im- 
movable property  will  become  specially  insecure.  It 
will,  in  this  respect,  increase  a  movement  very  dan- 
gerous to  English  commercial  supremacy,  which  labour 
troubles  and  organisations  have  already  produced.  Most 
good  observers  have*come  to  the  conclusion  that  an  ap- 
preciable influence  in  the  commercial  depression  of  the 
last  few  years  has  been  the  reluctance  of  rich  men  to 
embark  on  extensive  enterprises  at  a  time  when  labour 
troubles  are  so  acute,  so  menacing,  and  so  likely  to 
exercise  an  influence  on  legislation.  Far-seeing  men 
hesitate  to  commit  themselves  to  undertakings  which 
can  only  slowly  arrive  at  maturity  when  they  see  the 
strong  bias  of  popular  legislation  against  property,  and 
the  readiness  with  which  a  considerable  number  of 
modern  statesmen  will  purchase  a  majority  in  the 
House  of  Commons  by  allying  themselves  with  the 
most  dishonest  groups,  and  countenancing  the  most 
subversive  theories.  Every  influence  which,  in  any 
department  of  industrial  life,  increases  risks  and  di- 


CH.  III.  DIVroED  WEALTH  356 

minishes  profits  must  necessarily  divert  capital,  and, 
whatever  other  consequences  may  flow  from  the  fre- 
quent strikes  and  the  formidable  labour  organisations 
of  our  time,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  they  have  both 
of  these  effects.  If,  in  addition  to  these  things,  it 
becomes  the  policy  of  Governments  to  seek  to  defray 
national  expenditure  more  and  more  by  exceptional 
taxation,  levied  for  the  sake  of  popularity  exclusively 
on  the  rich,  the  tendency  to  abstain  from  large  manu- 
facturing and  commercial  enterprises  will  be  greatly 
accentuated.  Such  enterprises  will  not  cease,  but  they 
will  become  less  numerous.  Many  manufacturers  will 
probably  follow  the  example  which  some  have  already 
set,  and  throw  out  branch  establishments  in  foreign 
countries.  A  manufacturer  who  has  some  thousand 
pounds  on  hand,  instead  of  employing  them,  as  he 
would  once  have  done,  in  extending  his  business,  will 
be  inclined  to  divide  them  in  distant  investments.  It 
need  scarcely  be  pointed  out  how  dangerous  all  this  is 
to  a  country  which  has  a  population  much  beyond  its 
natural  resources,  and  mainly  dependent  upon  the 
enormous,  unflagging,  ever-extending  manufacturing 
and  commercial  enterprise  which  vast  accumulations 
and  concentrations  of  capital  can  alone  produce. 

Another  consequence,  which  has,  perhaps,  not  been 
sufficiently  considered,  is  the  tendency  of  large  fortunes 
to  take  forms  which  bring  with  them  no  clear  and  defi- 
nite duties.  The  English  landed  system,  which  seems 
now  gradually  passing  away,  had,  to  a  very  eminent 
degree,  associated  great  fortunes  and  high  social  po- 
sition with  an  active  life  spent  in  the  performance  of 
a  large  number  of  administrative  county  and  landlord 
duties.  It  in  this  way  provided,  perhaps  as  far  as  any 
social  institution  can  provide,  that  the  men  who  most 
powerfully  influence  others  by  their  example  should  on 


356  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  iiL 

the  whole  lead  useful,  active,  and  patriotic  lives.  A 
great  manufacturer  and  the  head  of  a  great  commercial 
undertaking  is  still  more  eminently  a  man  whose  wealth 
is  indissolubly  connected  with  a  life  of  constant  and 
useful  industry. 

Wealth,  however,  takes  many  other  forms  than  these, 
and,  if  I  mistake  not,  a  conspicuous  characteristic  of 
our  century  has  been  the  rapid  multiplication  of  the 
idle  rich.  In  the  conditions  of  modern  life  it  is  quite 
possible  for  a  man  to  have  a  colossal  fortune  in  forms 
that  require  absolutely  no  labour,  and  bring  with  them 
no  necessary  or  obvious  duties.  If  he  is  content  with 
the  low  rate  of  interest  of  the  very  best  securities,  he 
need  scarcely  give  a  thought  to  the  sources  of  his  in- 
come. If,  as  is  probable,  the  whole  or  a  portion  of  his 
fortune  is  invested  in  more  speculative  securities,  it 
will  require  from  him  some  time  and  thought,  but  it 
will  not  necessarily  bring  with  it  any  imperative  duties 
towards  his  fellow-creatures.  It  is  true  that  a  rich  man 
of  this  kind  is  in  reality  a  large  employer  of  labour. 
As  a  shareholder  he  is  part  proprietor  of  railroads, 
steam-packets,  dockyards,  mines,  and  many  other  wide- 
ly different,  and  probably  widely  scattered,  industrial 
enterprises  and  organisations.  But  he  has  no  real 
voice  in  the  management  of  these  concerns.  He  knows 
nothing  of  the  conditions  of  the  countless  labourers 
who,  in  many  countries  and  many  climes,  are  toiling 
for  his  profit.  He  looks  on  his  investments  simply  as 
sources  of  income.  His  sole  information  concerning 
them  is  probably  confined  to  a  few  statistics  about 
dividends,  traffic  returns,  encumbrances,  and  trade 
prospects. 

We  are  all  familiar  with  great  numbers  of  more  or 
less  wealthy  men  Avhose  fortunes  are  of  this  description. 
Under  the  influences  that  I  have  described  such  for- 


CH.  III.      WEALTH  DISSOCIATED  FROM  LABOUR  357 

tnnes  seem  to  me  likely  to  multiply.  The  tendency  of 
most  great  forms  of  industry  is  evidently  towards  vast 
joint-stock  companies  with  many  shareholders.  With 
improved  means  of  communication,  the  securities  and 
enterprises  of  many  countries  are  easily  thrown  into  a 
common  market,  and  national  and  municipal  debts, 
which  create  one  of  the  easiest  and  most  important 
forms  of  investment,  are  rapidly  increasing.  One  of 
the  first  signs  that  a  barbarous  nation  is  adopting  the 
manners  of  Occidental  civilisation  is,  usually,  the  crea- 
tion of  a  national  debt,  and  democracies  are  certainly 
showing  themselves  in  no  degree  behind  the  most  ex- 
travagant monarchies  in  the  rapidity  with  which  they 
accumulate  national  and  local  indebtedness.  Nor 
should  we  forget  the  effect  which  frequent  revolutions 
and  violent  social  and  industrial  perturbations  always 
exercise  on  the  disposition  of  fortunes.  These  things 
seldom  fail  to  depress  credit,  to  increase  debt,  to  de- 
stroy industry,  to  impoverish  nations ;  but  they  also 
furnish  many  opportunities  by  which  the  skilful,  the 
fortunate,  and  the  unscrupulous  rise  rapidly  to  easily 
acquired  wealth.  If  we  take  them  in  conjunction  with 
the  influences  that  are  in  so  many  directions  dissociat- 
ing great  wealth  from  landed  property  and  adminis- 
trative functions,  and  adding  to  the  risks  of  extensive 
industrial  undertakings,  it  will  appear  probable  that 
the  fortunes  of  the  future  will  be  much  less  connected 
with  active  duties  than  those  of  the  past. 

The  prospect  is  not  an  encouraging  one.  A  man  of 
very  superior  powers  will,  no  doubt,  always  find  his 
work,  and  to  such  a  man  a  fortune  of  this  description 
will  be  an  incalculable  blessing.  It  will  save  him  from 
years  of  drudgery  and  anxiety,  and  it  will  give  him  at 
the  outset  of  his  career  the  priceless  advantage  of  inde- 
pendence.    To  men  of  lofty  moral  qualities  it  will  at 


358  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  iii. 

least  be  no  injury.  Such  men  will  feel  strongly  the  ina- 
lienable responsibilities  of  wealth,  and  will  find  in  the 
fields  of  social  and  philanthropic  activity  ample  scope  for 
their  exertions.  Many,  too,  who  are  not  men  of  conspi- 
cuous mental  or  moral  force  will  have  some  strong  taste 
for  art,  or  literature,  or  country  pursuits,  or  science,  or 
research,  which  will  secure  for  them  useful  and  honour- 
able lives.  Yet  it  can  scarcely  be  doubted  that  even 
these  will  always  be  exceptions.  The  majority  of  men 
fail  to  find  their  work  unless  it  is  brought  before  them 
prominently  by  circumstances,  or  forced  upon  them  by 
the  strong  pi*essure  of  necessity.  Wealth  which  brings 
with  it  no  ties  and  is  obtained  and  enjoyed  with  no 
effort  is  to  most  men  a  temptation  and  a  snare.  All 
the  more  dissipated  capitals  and  watering-places  of 
Europe  and  America  are  full  of  examples  of  men  in 
this  position,  living  lives  of  absolute  frivolity,  disso- 
ciated from  all  serious  interests,  ever  seeking  with 
feverish  eagerness  for  new  forms  of  pleasure,  raising  the 
standard  of  luxury  and  ostentation,  and  often,  in  still 
graver  ways,  depressing  the  moral  tone  of  the  society 
in  which  they  live. 

Considerations  of  this  kind  will  probably  be  treated 
with  much  disdain  by  Eadical  critics.  They  will  truly 
say,  that  the  section  of  society  referred  to  forms  only  a 
very  small  portion  of  the  population,  and  they  will  ask 
whether  nations  are  to  frame  their  institutions  with 
the  object  of  providing  occupation  for  the  spoilt  chil- 
dren of  fortune,  and  saying  them  from  their  own  fri- 
volity or  .vice.  No  one,  I  suppose,  would  maintain 
that  they  should  do  so  ;  but,  in  estimating  the  ad- 
vantages and  disadvantages  of  different  institutions, 
many  weights  enter  into  either  scale  which  would  not 
of  themselves  be  sufficient  to  turn  the  balance.  It  is, 
however,  a  grave  error  to  suppose  that  the  evils  I  have 


CH.  in.  DEMOCRACY  AND  WEALTH  359 

described  can  be  confined  to  the  classes  who  are  imme- 
diately concerned.  It  is  impossible  that  the  upper 
class  of  a  nation  can  become  corrupt,  frivolous,  or 
emasculated  without  affecting  deeply  and  widely  the 
whole  body  of  the  community.  Constituted  as  human 
nature  is,  rich  men  will  always  contribute  largely  to 
set  the  tone  of  society,  to  form  the  tastes,  habits,  ideals 
and  aspirations  of  other  classes.  In  this  respect,  as  in 
many  others,  the  gradual  dissociation  of  the  upper 
classes  from  many  forms  of  public  duty  is  likely  to 
prove  a  danger  to  the  community. 

It  is  an  evil  which  appears  wherever  democracy  be- 
-comes  ascendant,  though  its  progress  varies  much  in 
different  countries.  The  strong  traditions,  the  firmly 
knit  organisation  of  English  life,  has  hitherto  resisted 
it  much  more  effectively  than  most  nations.  No  one 
can  say  that  the  upper  classes  in  England  have  as  yet 
abandoned  politics.  Those  who  fear  this  change  may 
derive  some  consolation  from  observing  how  largely 
the  most  Eadical  Cabinets  of  our  time  have  consisted 
of  peers  and  connections  of  peers,  and  from  counting 
up  the  many  thousands  of  pounds  at  which  the  average 
private  incomes  of  their  members  may  be  estimated. 
Nor,  indeed,  can  it  be  said  that  English  democracy,  on 
either  side  of  the  Atlantic,  shows  any  special  love  for  a 
Spartan,  or  Stoical,  or  Puritan  simplicity.  Mr.  Cecil 
Rhodes  once  described  a  prominent  politician  as  'a, 
cynical  sybarite  who  was  playing  the  demagogue  ' ;  and 
it  must  be  owned  that  professions  of  a  very  austere 
democracy  have  not  unfrequently  been  found  united 
with  the  keenest  appetite  for  wealth,  for  pleasure,  and 
even  for  titles.  The  political  and  economical  infiu- 
ences,  however,  which  I  have  endeavoured  to  trace 
have  established  in  England,  as  elsewhere,  a  tendency 
which  is  not  the  less  real  because  it  has  not  yet  tri- 


360  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  in. 

nmphed,  and  the  experience  of  American  political  and 
mnnicipal  life  throws  much  light  upon  the  path  along 
which  we  are  moving.  The  change  in  the  House  of 
Commons  is  becoming  visible  to  every  eye,  and  one  of 
the  most  important  questions  for  the  future  is  the  pos- 
sibility of  maintaining  an  Upper  Chamber  as  a  perma- 
nent and  powerful  element  in  the  Constitution. 


CH.  IV.     GOVERNMENT  BY  ONE  CHAMBER       361 


CHAPTER  IV 

ARISTOCRACIES   AND   UPPER   CHAMBERS 

Of  all  the  forms  of  government  that  are  possible  among 
mankind,  I  do  not  know  any  which  is  likely  to  be 
worse  than  the  government  of  a  single,  omnipotent, 
democratic  Chamber.  It  is  at  least  as  susceptible  as 
an  individual  despot  to  the  temptations  that  grow  out 
of  the  possession  of  an  uncontrolled  power,  and  it  is 
likely  to  act  with  much  less  sense  of  responsibility  and 
much  less  real  deliberation.  The  necessity  of  making 
a  great  decision  seldom  fails  to  weigh  heavily  on  a 
single  despot,  but  when  the  responsibility  is  divided 
among  a  large  assembly,  it  is  greatly  attenuated.  Every 
considerable  assembly,  also,  as  it  has  been  truly  said, 
has  at  times  something  of  the  character  of  a  mob.  Men 
acting  in  crowds  and  in  public,  and  amid  the  passions 
of  conflict  and  of  debate,  are  strangely  different  from 
what  they  are  when  considering  a  serious  question  in 
the  calm  seclusion  of  their  cabinets.  Party  interests 
and  passions ;  personal  likings  or  dislikes ;  the  power 
of  rhetoric  ;  the  confusion  of  thought  that  springs  from 
momentary  impressions,  and  from  the  clash  of  many 
conflicting  arguments ;  the  compromises  of  principle 
that  arise  from  attempts  to  combine  for  one  purpose 
men  of  different  opinions  or  interests  ;  mere  lassitude, 
and  mere  caprice,  all  act  powerfully  on  the  decisions 
of  an  assembly.  Many  members  are  entangled  by 
pledges  they  had  inconsiderately  given,  by  some  prin- 
ciple they  had  admitted  without  recognising  the  full 


362  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  en.  it. 

extent  to  which  it  might  be  carried,  or  by  some  line  of 
conduct  they  had  at  another  period  pursued.  Personal 
interest  plays  no  small  part :  for  the  consequence  and 
pecuniary  interests  of  many  members  are  bound  up 
with  the  triumph  of  their  party,  while  many  others 
desire  beyond  all  things  a  renewal  of  their  mandate. 
They  know  that  a  considerable  part  of  the  constitu- 
encies to  which  they  must  ultimately  appeal  is  com- 
posed of  fluctuating  masses  of  very  ignorant  men,  easily 
swayed  by  clap-trap,  by  appeals  to  class  interests  or 
class  animosities,  and  for  the  most  part  entirely  inca- 
pable of  disentangling  a  difficult  question,  judging  dis- 
tant and  obscure  consequences,  realising  conditions 
of  thought  and  life  widely  different  from  their  own, 
estimating  political  measures  according  to  their  true 
proportionate  value,  and  weighing  nicely  balanced 
arguments  in  a  judicial  spirit. 

The  confusion  becomes  still  greater  when  Parliaments 
divide  into  a  number  of  small  independent  groups,  each 
of  them  subordinating  general  political  interests  to  the 
furtherance  of  some  particular  interests  and  opinions, 
and  when  the  art  of  parliamentary  government  consists 
mainly  of  skill  in  combining  in  the  division  lobby  these 
heterogeneous  fractions.  The  first  condition  of  good 
legislation  on  any  particular  question,  as  of  most  other 
good  work,  is  that  it  should  be  single-minded — that  it 
should  represent  the  application  of  the  best  available 
faculty  to  a  special  purpose.  There  is  scarcely  a  con- 
tested question  determined  in  Parliament  in  which 
motives  wholly  different  from  the  ostensible  ones,  and 
wholly  unconnected  with  the  immediate  issue,  do  not 
influence  many  votes.  It  is  also  rather  the  rule  than 
the  exception  that  a  general  election  produces  a  change 
of  Government,  and  the  defeated  minority  of  one  Par- 
liament becomes  the  majority  in  the  next. 


CH.  IV.  GOVERNMENT  BY  ONE  CHAMBER  363 

There  is,  certainly,  no  proposition  in  politics  more 
indubitable  than  that  the  attempt  to  govern  a  great, 
heterogeneous  empire  simply  by  such  an  assembly  must 
ultimately  prove  disastrous,  and  the  necessity  of  a  se- 
cond Chamber,  to  exercise  a  controlling,  modifying, 
retarding,  and  steadying  influence  has  acquired  almost 
the  position  of  an  axiom.  Of  all  the  many  parlia- 
mentary constitutions  now  existing  in  the  world, 
Greece,  Mexico,  and  Servia  are,  I  believe,  the  only 
ones  in  which  independent  and  sovereign  nations  have 
adopted  the  system  of  a  single  Chamber,  and,  among 
these,  Servia  is^enly  a  partial  exception.  According 
to  the  Constitution  of  this  little  country,  legislation 
is,  in  ordinary  times,  conducted  by  the  king  and  a  sin- 
gle national  assembly,  in  which  one  out  of  every  four 
members  must  be  nominated  by  the  king,  and  which 
exercises  strictly  limited  and  defined  powers ;  but  the 
sovereign  has  a  right  of  convoking  when  he  pleases  a 
second  and  much  larger  assembly,  which  alone  is  com- 
petent to  deal  with  grave  questions  affecting  the  Con- 
stitution and  the  territory  of  the  State.  ^  Norway, 
being  united  with  Sweden,  is  not  an  absolutely  inde- 
pendent country,  but  it  is  one  of  the  countries  where 
legislative  power  is  virtually  in  the  hands  of  a  single 
Chamber.  The  Storthing  is  a  single  Chamber,  elected 
at  a  single  election,  but,  when  it  meets,  it  elects  out  of 
its  own  body  a  second  Chamber,  consisting  of  a  fourth 
part  of  its  members.  The  extreme  concentration  of 
power  resulting  from  this  system  is  one  of  the  great 
causes  of  the  dangerous  tension  that  exists  in  the  rela- 
tions of  Sweden  and  Norway. 

'  Demombrynes's  Les  Consti-  pire,   and  a  few  small  Powers 

tutions  Europeennes,  i.  715-24.  holding  a   completely   subordi- 

I    do    not   include   the    Grand  nate    position    in    the   German 

Duchy  of  Finland,  the  Provin-  system,  in  which  single  Cham- 

cial  Diets  in  the  Austrian  Em-  bers  exist. 


364  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  en.  rv. 

The  experience  of  the  past  abundantly  corroborates 
the  views  of  those  who  dread  government  by  a  single 
Chamber.  In  the  English  Commonwealth  such  a  sys- 
tem for  a  short  time  existed  ;  but  the  abolition  of  the 
House  of  Lords  was  soon  followed  by  the  expulsion  of 
the  Commons,  and  when  Cromwell  resolved  to  restore 
some  measure  of  parliamentary  government,  he  clear- 
ly saw  that  two  Chambers  were  indispensable,  and 
he  revived  on  another  basis  the  House  of  Lords.  In 
America,  Franklin  had  strongly  advocated  a  single 
Chamber ;  and  in  the  American  Confederation,  which 
was  formally  adopted  by  the  thirteen  States  in  1781, 
and  which  represented  the  United  States  in  the  first 
years  of  their  independent  existence,  the  Congress  con- 
sisted of  only  one  branch.  It  was  invested  with  very 
small  powers,  and  was  almost  as  completely  over- 
shadowed by  the  State  rights  of  its  constituents  as  the 
Cromwellian  House  of  Commons  had  been  by  the  mili- 
tary power  of  the  Commonwealth.  But  the  very  first 
article  of  the  American  Constitution,  which  was  framed 
in  1787,  divided  the  Congress  into  a  Senate  and  a 
House  of  Eepresentatives.  In  all  the  separate  States 
the  bicameral  system  exists,  and  it  also  exists  in  all  the 
British  colonies  which  have  self-governing  powers.  In 
France,  Turgot  and  Sieyes  advocated  a  single  Chamber, 
and  in  the  French  Constitution  of  1791  all  power  was 
placed  in  the  hands  of  such  a  body,  the  result  being 
one  of  the  most  appalling  tyrannies  in  the  history  of 
mankind.  In  1848  the  same  experiment  was  once  more 
tried,  and  it  once  more  conducted  France  through  an- 
archy to  despotism. 

It  is  not  necessary  for  my  present  purpose  to  enter 
into  any  disquisition  about  tlie  origin  and  early  evolu- 
tion of  the  House  of  Lords.  For  a  long  period  of 
English  history  it  was  a  small  and  a  diminishing  body. 


CH.  IV.  THE  POWER  OF  THE  LORDS  365 

and  in  the  fifteenth  century  the  spiritual,  or  life  peers, 
considerably  outnumbered  the  temporal,  or  hereditary 
ones.  The  Reformation  had  a  capital  influence  on  the 
constitution  of  the  House.  By  removing  the  mitred 
abbots,  it  made  the  temporal  peers  a  clear  majority, 
while  the  vast  distribution  of  monastic  property  among 
some  of  the  great  families  added  enormously  to  their 
influence.  From  this  time  the  lay,  or  hereditary  peer- 
age steadily  increased.  Only  twenty -nine  temporal 
peers  had  been  summoned  to  the  first  Parliament  of 
Henry  VII.,  and  fifty-one  was  the  largest  number  sum- 
moned under  Henry  VIII.  ;  but  119  peers  were  sum- 
moned to  the  Parliament  of  1640,  and  139  to  the 
Parliament  of  1661.^  At  the  close  of  the  seventeenth 
century  the  temporal  peerage  amounted  to  about  150  ; 
in  the  first  Parliament  of  George  III.,  to  174.  In 
1642,  the  bishops  were  excluded  by  Act  of  Parliament 
from  the  House  of  Lords,  which  thus  became,  for  the 
first  time  in  its  history,  a  purely  hereditary  body  ;  and 
in  1649  the  House  of  Lords  was  abolished  by  the  vote 
of  the  House  of  Commons.  At  the  Restoration  this 
vote  being,  of  course,  treated  as  null,  the  House  re- 
vived, and  by  an  Act  of  Parliament  of  1661  the  bishops 
were  again  introduced  into  its  ranks. 

The  Revolution,  unlike  the  Commonwealth,  had  no 
injurious  effect  upon  it.  The  change  of  dynasty  was 
largely  due  to  the  action  of  the  heads  of  a  few  great 
aristocratic  families ;  the  House  of  Lords  bore  a  very 
conspicuous  part  in  regulating  its  terms ;  and  it  is 
probably  no  exaggeration  to  say  that  the  steady  "Whig 
preponderance  in  that  House  mainly  secured  the  Revo- 
lution settlement  during  the  long  period  of  the  dis- 
puted succession.     It  is  true  that,  in  the  re-division  of 


»  May's  Const.  Mst.,  i.  232-35. 


366  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  iv. 

power  which  resulted  from  the  decline  of  royal  influ- 
ence at  the  Revolution,  the  larger  share  fell  to  the 
House  of  Commons,  and  by  the  time  of  Walpole  that 
House,  in  its  corporate  capacity,  was  certainly  the 
strongest  body  in  the  State  ;  but  individual  peers  exer- 
cised an  enormous  influence  over  its  composition.  The 
system  of  small  nomination  boroughs  was  chiefly  due 
to  the  fluctuations  in  wealth  and  population  in  the 
community,  and  to  the  practical  annihilation  of  the  old 
prerogative  of  the  sovereign  of  revising  the  representa- 
tion by  summoning  new  and  rising  places  to  send 
members  to  the  Commons.  Most  of  those  seats  passed 
under  the  patronage  of  peers,  either  on  account  of  the 
vast  territorial  possessions  which  they  had  inherited,  or 
by  the  frequent  ennobling  of  great  merchant-princes, 
who,  by  means  of  venal  boroughs,  had  acquired  politi- 
cal power,  and  who  obtained  their  peerages  as  the  re- 
ward of  political  services. 

The  place  which  is  occupied  by  the  small  boroughs 
in  English  history  is  a  very  great  one.  At  the  time 
when  the  Revolution  settlement  was  seriously  disputed 
they  gave  the  Whig  party  a  steady  preponderance  of 
parliamentary  power,  thus  securing  it  from  those  vio- 
lent fluctuations  of  opinion  which,  if  the  Legislature 
had  been  really  popular,  would  have  almost  certainly 
proved  fatal  to  the  unsettled  dynasty.  They  contri- 
buted, also,  powerfully  to  the  general  harmony  between 
the  two  Houses,  and  they  enabled  the  House  of  Com- 
mons to  grow  steadily  in  influence,  without  exciting  any 
hostility  on  the  part  of  the  Upper  House.  Perhaps 
the  most  dangerous  moment  in  the  history  of  the  peer- 
age was  in  1719,  when  the  ministry  of  Sunderland  and 
Stanhope  endeavoured  to  make  it  a  close  body,  by 
strictly  limiting  the  number  of  the  House,  and  almost 
wholly  depriving  the  sovereign  of  the  power  of  creating 


CH.  IV.  THE  UNION   WITH  SCOTLAND  367 

new  peers.  Chiefly  by  the  exertions  of  Walpole,  this 
measure  was  defeated  in  the  Commons,  and  no  attempt 
was  made  to  revive  it  ;  and  the  presence  in  the  House 
of  Commons  of  large  numbers  of  heirs  to  peerages,  or 
of  younger  members  of  noble  families,  strengthened 
the  harmony  between  the  two  Houses. 

The  union  with  Scotland  not  only  introduced  sixteen 
peers  into  the  House  of  Lords  :  it  also  introduced  a 
new  principle,  as  those  peers  were  elected  for  a  single 
Parliament  by  their  fellow-peers.  For  a  long  period 
they  were  far  from  improving  the  constitution  of  the 
House,  for  this  small  alien  section  of  an  ancient  but 
very  poor  aristocracy  proved  exceedingly  subservient  to 
Government  control.  The  system  of  election  also 
tended  greatly  to  the  misrepresentation  of  the  peerage  ; 
for  it  was  by  a  simple  majority,  and  the  party  which 
preponderated  in  the  Scotch  peerage  returned,  in  con- 
sequence, the  whole  body  of  the  representative  peers. 
The  position  of  the  minority  was  at  this  time  very 
anomalous ;  for  while  the  method  of  election  made  it 
impossible  for  them  to  enter  the  House  of  Lords  as 
representative  peers,  they  were  at  the  same  time  inca- 
pacitated by  law  from  sitting  in  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, and  the  House  of  Lords,  in  1711,  passed  a 
resolution  declaring  that,  although  the  sovereign  might 
confer  an  English  peerage  on  a  Scotch  peer,  he  had 
not  the  right  of  introducing  him  into  their  House. 
The  disability  was,  in  some  degree,  evaded  by  the  de- 
vice of  conferring  English  peerages  on  the  eldest  sons 
of  Scotch  peers  ;  but  it  was  accepted  as  law  until  178'8, 
when  the  question  was  referred  to  the  judges,  who 
unanimously  pronounced  the  resolution  of  1711  to  have 
been  unauthorised  by  the  Act  of  Union,  and  it  was 
accordingly  rescinded  by  a  vote  of  the  House  of  Lords. 
From  this  time  tlie  right  of  conferring  English  peer- 


368  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  iv. 

ages  on  the  minority  of  Scotch  peers  who  are  excluded 
by  their  politics  from  the  number  of  representative 
peers,  has  been  largely  exercised. 

On  the  accession  of  George  III.  the  position  of  the 
House  of  Lords  was  greatly  changed.  Hitherto  the 
Whig  party  had  predominated  in  its  ranks,  and  the 
first  object  of  the  young  King  was  to  break  down 
the  power  of  a  group  of  great  Whig  peers,  who  had 
accumulated  masses  of  borough  influence,  and  who 
had  long  dominated  in  the  State.  This  is  not  the 
place  to  relate  the  long,  and  on  the  whole  successful, 
struggle  by  which  the  King  attained  his  ends ;  but  it 
must  be  noticed  that  during  his  whole  reign  peers 
drawn  from  the  Tory  party  were  created  in  large  num- 
bers with  the  object  of  giving  a  new  complexion  to 
the  House  of  Lords.  The  inducement  to  these  crea- 
tions was,  probably,  considerably  increased  by  the 
abolition  of  sinecure  places,  under  Burke's  measure  of 
economical  reform,  which  deprived  the  minister  of  a 
large  part  of  his  former  means  of  rewarding  political 
services. 

The  Irish  Union  introduced  into  the  House  of  Lords 
a  new  body  of  twenty-eight  representative  peers.  In 
Ireland,  as  in  Scotland,  the  vicious  system  of  election 
by  simple  majority,  which  inevitably  gives  one  party 
in  the  peerage  a  monopoly,  was  adopted  ;  but  no  ques- 
tion was  ever  raised  about  the  power  of  the  Crown  to 
introduce  Irish  peers  into  the  House  of  Lords  by  the 
bestowal  of  English  peerages  ;  and  in  other  respects 
the  Scotch  precedent  was  not  exactly  followed.  The 
Scotch  peers  were  elected  for  one  Parliament,  but  the 
Irish  peers  for  life.  The  Scotch  peers  who  were  not 
in  the  House  of  Lords  were  absolutely  excluded  from 
sitting  in  the  House  of  Commons  ;  but  an  Irish  peer 
who  was  not  a  representative  peer  might  sit  in  the 


CH.  IV.  THE  SPIRITUAL  PEERS  369 

Commons  for  an  English,  Scotch,  or  Welsh  constitu- 
ency. The  Scotch  peerage  was  closed  at  the  Union, 
the  sovereign  being  deprived  of  all  power  of  creating 
Scotch  peerages.  The  Irish  peerage  was  only  limited 
at  the  Union,  for  the  sovereign  retained  the  power  of 
creating  one  Irish  peerage  whenever  three  Irish  peer- 
ages were  extinguished — a  useless  power,  which  has  in 
our  own  day  become  almost  obsolete. 

Another  important  difference  was  that,  the  Scotch 
Church  being  Presbyterian,  the  Scotch  Union  left  the 
spiritual  peers  unchanged,  while  the  Irish  Union  in- 
troduced a  new  body  of  spiritual  peers,  sitting  by  a 
new  principle  of  rotation.  This  slight  addition  of  an 
archbishop  and  four  bishops  disappeared  when  the 
Irish  Church  was  disestablished  ;  but  it  represents 
the  only  modern  increase  which  has  taken  place  in 
the  number  of  the  spiritual  peers  to  counterbalance  the 
great  increase  of  the  temporal  ones.  Several  new  Eng- 
lish bishoprics,  it  is  true,  have  been  in  the  present  cen- 
tury created  ;  but  the  legislation  that  authorised  them 
expressly  provided  that  there  should  be  no  increase  in 
the  number  of  bishops  in  the  House  of  Lords.'  Two 
archbishops  and  the  bishops  of  London,  Durham, 
and  AVinchester  invariably  sit  in  the  House ;  but  of 
the  remaining  bishops,  only  the  twenty-one  senior  bi- 
shops sit  in  the  House  of  Lords,  and  an  unwritten 
conventionality  greatly  restricts  their  interference  in 
purely  secular  politics. 

Few  things,  indeed,  in  English  history  are  more 
significant  than  the  change  which  has  taken  place  in 
the  political  influence  of  the  Church.  Great  Church- 
men once  continually  held  the  highest  offices  in  the 
Government.     But  no  clergyman  has  taken  part  in  an 


'  See,  e.g.,  10  &  11  Vict.,  c.  108,  s.  2. 
VOL.  I.  S4 


370  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  iv. 

English  Government  since  the  reign  of  Qneen  Anne, 
though  in  Ireland  a  succession  of  great  governing  pre- 
lates continued  far  into  the  eighteenth  century.  The 
spiritual  element  in  the  House  of  Lords  has  become  a 
small  fraction  in  the  House,  and  the  presence  of  that 
small  element  has  come  to  be  looked  upon  as  an  ano- 
maly. Yet  the  bishops  sit  in  the  House  of  Lords  by 
an  older  title  than  any  section  of  the  lay  peerage,  with 
the  possible  exception  of  the  earls,  and  for  a  consider- 
able period  of  English  history  they  formed  the  ma- 
jority of  the  House. ^  They  represent,  in  a  certain 
measure,  the  principle  of  life  peerages,  to  which  mo- 
dern Liberal  tendencies  are  steadily  flowing ;  for,  al- 
though they  sit  in  the  House  by  an  order  of  succession, 
it  is  a  succession  of  office,  and  not  a  succession  of 
lineage ;  and  the  manner  in  which  they  are  appointed 
furnishes  a  strong  presumption  that  they  possess  a 
more  than  average  capacity,  a  more  than  average 
knowledge  of  the  condition  of  great  sections  of  the 
English  people,  and,  especially,  a  more  than  average 
share  of  that  administrative  ability  which  is  so  valuable 
in  the  government  of  nations. 

The  strong  Tory  character  that  the  House  of  Lords 
assumed  in  the  reign  of  George  III.  has  been  in  many 
ways  a  misfortune  in  English  history,  but  it  is  far  from 
certain  that  it  was  unpopular.  The  House  of  Lords 
was  never  at  this  period  in  as  violent  conflict  with  the 
popular  sentiment  as  the  House  of  Commons  in  the 
Wilkes  case.  The  most  memorable  conflict  between 
the  two  Houses  in  this  reign  took  place  when  the 
House  of  Lords  overthrew  the  coalition  ministry, 
which  commanded  a  great  majority  in  the  House  of 


'  See  Freeman's  essay  on  this  subject  in  the  fourth  series  of  his 
Historical  Essays. 


CH.  IV.  THE  TORY  PEERAGE  '671 

Commons,  and  supported  Pitt  in  holding  office  for 
three  months  in  opposition  to  that  majority  ;  but  the 
dissolution  of  1784  decisively  vindicated  the  policy  of 
the  Lords,  and  proved  that  on  this  question  they  most 
truly  represented  the  sentiment  of  the  nation.  The 
strong  hostility  to  reform  which  undoubtedly  prevailed 
in  the  House  of  Lords  in  the  closing  years  of  the 
eighteenth  century  and  in  the  early  decades  of  the 
nineteenth  century  represented  with,  probably,  unex- 
aggerated  fidelity  the  reaction  of  opinion  which  had 
passed  over  England  in  consequence  of  the  horrors 
and  calamities  of  the  French  Revolution,  and  its  anti- 
Catholic  sentiment  was  fully  shared  by  the  English 
people.  The  total  defeat,  at  the  election  of  1807,  of 
the  party  which  advocated  a  policy  of  most  moderate 
Catholic  concession  is  a  decisive  proof.  It  was  not, 
indeed,  until  1821  that  any  considerable  divergence  on 
this  question  was  shown  between  the  two  Houses.  It 
will  usually,  I  think,  be  found  that  the  House  of 
Lords  at  this  time,  in  the  actions  which  later  periods 
have  most  condemned,  represented  a  prejudice  which 
was  predominant  in  the  country,  though  it  often  re- 
presented it  in  a  slightly  exaggerated  form,  and  with 
a  somewhat  greater  persistence  than  the  House  of 
Commons.  The  presence  of  a  spiritual  element  did 
not  prevent  the  Upper  House  being  behind  the  House 
of  Commons  in  the  great  work  of  diminishing,  and  at 
last  abolishing,  the  horrors  of  the  slave  trade  ;  and  the 
authority  of  some  great  lawyers  who  sat  in  the  House 
of  Lords  was  the  direct  cause  of  its  opposition  to  some 
of  the  most  necessary  legal  reforms,  and  especially  to 
the  mitigation  of  the  atrocities  of  the  criminal  code. 

There  are,  however,  two  facts  which  must  always 
be  borne  in  mind  in  comparing  the  House  of  Lords  in 
the  corrupt  and  unreforming  period  between  the  out- 


372  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  iv. 

break  of  the  great  French  war  and  the  Reform  Bill  of 
1832  with  the  House  of  Lords  in  our  own  day.  What- 
ever may  be  said  in  the  present  day  of  the  class  preju- 
dices, the  class  apathy,  or  even  the  class  interests,  of 
its  members,  no  candid  man  will  deny  that  it  is  an 
eminently  independent  body,  absolutely  free  from  all 
taint  or  suspicion  of  corruption,  and  there  is,  probably, 
no  legislative  body  in  the  world  in  which  motives  of 
mere  personal  interest  bear  a  smaller  share.  In  the 
early  period  of  the  century,  on  the  contrary,  a  great 
and  dominating  section  of  the  peerage  consisted  of 
men  who  were  directly  bound  to  the  Crown  by  places 
or  pensions  ;  while  the  indirect  advantages  of  the  peer- 
age, in  the  distribution  of  the  vast  patronage  in  Church 
and  State,  were  so  great  that  the  whole  body  was  bound 
to  the  existing  system  of  government  by  personal  and 
selfish  motives  of  the  strongest  kind.  '  The  far  greater 
part  of  the  peers,'  wrote  Queen  Caroline  to  George 
IV.  in  1820,  '  hold,  by  themselves  and  their  families, 
offices,  pensions,  and  emoluments  solely  at  the  will 
and  pleasure  of  your  Majesty.  There  are  more  than 
four-fifths  of  the  peers  in  this  situation.*  Wilberforce 
mentioned,  in  1811,  that  more  than  half  the  House  of 
Lords  'had  been  created  or  gifted  with  their  titles' 
since  1780,  and  the  special  object  of  these  creations 
had  been  to  make  the  House  completely  subservient  to 
the  Crown  and  to  the  Executive.^ 

The  other  consideration  is  the  borough  patronage, 
to  which  I  have  already  referred.  It  identified  the 
interests  of  the  peerage  in  the  closest  degree  with  op- 
position to  reform.  It  was  not  only  an  interest  of 
power  and  of  family,  but  also  an  interest  of  property, 
for  these  boroughs  were  notoriously  bought  and  sold. 


"Walpole's  History  of  England^  i.  150. 


CH.  IV.  THE  PEERAGE  BEFORE  1832  373 

Before  Curwen's  Act,  which  was  passed  in  1809,  im- 
posing penalties  on  such  sales,  they  were  practised  with 
scarcely  any  concealment,  and  after  that  Act  they  still 
continued.  The  analysis  of  the  representation  given 
in  Oldfield's  '  Eepresentative  History,'  which  was  pub- 
lished in  1816,  shows  that,  out  of  the  513  members 
who  then  represented  England  and  "Wales,  no  less  than 
218  were  returned  by  the  influence  or  nomination  of 
eighty-seven  peers.  Scotland  was  represented  by  forty- 
five  members,  of  whom  thirty-one  were  returned  by 
twenty-one  peers.  Ireland  was  represented  by  100 
members,  of  whom  fifty-one  were  returned  by  thirty- 
six  peers.  Six  peers  returned  no  less  than  forty-five 
members  to  the  House  of  Commons.^ 

It  is  sufficiently  obvious  from  these  facts  that,  while 
the  forms  of  the  Constitution  have  remained  sub- 
stantially unchanged,  its  character  and  working  have 
been  essentially  and  fundamentally  altered  by  the  Re- 
form Bill  of  1832,  and  no  one  can  wonder  that  the 
House  of  Lords  should  have  resisted  that  Reform  Bill 
with  a  persistence  which  nothing  short  of  imminent 
danger  of  a  revolution  and  the  threat  of  a  great  im- 
mediate creation  of  peers  could  overcome.  It  is,  rather, 
wonderful  that  a  peerage  exercising  such  power  should 
have  been,  on  the  whole,  so  steadily  in  touch  with  the 
popular  feeling ;  that  English  legislation  should  have 
been  so  free  from  the  privileges  of  taxation  and  many 
kindred  abuses  in  favour  of  the  aristocracy,  which 
existed  in  most  Continental  countries  ;  that  the  sys- 
tem of  nomination  boroughs  should  have  been  so 
largely  employed  in  bringing  poor  men  of  genius  and 
promise  into  the  House  of  Commons ;  that  so  large  a 
number  of  members  of  the  Upper  House  should  have 


«  May,  i.  282-306 ;  Oldfield,  vi.  285-300. 


374  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  iv. 

been  in  the  van  of  every  great  movement  of  reform. 
Even  in  the  conflict  of  1832  this  characteristic  was 
clearly  shown.  Some  of  the  oldest  and  greatest  aristo- 
cratic families  in  the  kingdom  led  the  popular  cause. 
It  was  noticed  that,  of  the  peers  created  before  1790,  108 
voted  in  favour  of  the  Bill,  and  only  four  against  it,^ 
while,  until  the  very  last  stage  of  the  struggle,  no  class 
of  members  in  the  House  of  Lords  were  more  strenu- 
ously opposed  to  the  Bill  than  the  bishops. 

Since  this  great  measure  the  position  of  the  House  of 
Lords  in  the  Constitution  has  fundamentally  altered. 
It  no  longer  claims  a  co-ordinate  power  with  the  House 
of  Commons  in  legislation  :  it  exercises  a  secondary 
position  in  the  Constitution.  But  if  it  has  sometimes 
retarded  measures  that  were  both  useful  and  urgent,  it 
also  discharges  functions  of  great  and  of  increasing 
utility.  It  exercises  a  suspensory  veto,  delaying  mea- 
sures which  have  acquired  only  an  uncertain,  transitory, 
or  capricious  majority,  until  they  have  become  clearly 
the  deliberate  desire  of  the  constituencies.  In  the  sys- 
tem of  party  government  it  constantly  happens  that 
the  popularity  of  a  statesman,  or  the  ascendency  of  a 
party,  or  the  combination  at  an  election  of  many  dis- 
tinct interests  or  motives  acting  simultaneously  on 
many  different  classes  of  electors,  brings  into  power  a 
Government  many  of  whose  measures  have  never  re- 
ceived the  real  sanction  of  the  electors.  Sometimes 
lines  of  policy  of  great  importance  are  first  started  in 
the  course  of  a  session.  Often  measures  of  great  im- 
portance are  brought  forward  in  Parliament  which 
at  the  election  had  been  entirely  subsidiary  with  the 
electors,  or  with  great  sections  of  them,  or  which  had 
come  to  them  with  the  disadvantage  of  novelty,  and 


'  Moles  worth's  History^  i.  203. 


CH.  IV.  FUNCTIONS  OP  THE  LORDS  375 

had  never  been  thoroughly  understood  or  thoroughly- 
canvassed.  Public  opinion  in  England  rarely  occupies 
itself  seriously  Avitli  more  than  one  great  question  at  a 
time,  and  those  deliberate  and  widespread  convictions, 
on  which  alone  a  national  policy  can  be  firmly  and 
safely  based,  are  only  arrived  at  after  a  long  period  of 
discussion.  Nothing  can  be  more  frequent  than  for 
a  measure  to  obtain  a  majority  in  the  House  of  Com- 
mons which  has  never  been  either  approved  of  or 
considered  by  the  bulk  of  the  electors  by  whom  that 
majority  was  returned.  In  all  such  cases  it  is  a  matter 
of  vital  importance  that  there  should  be  a  delaying 
power,  capable  of  obstructing  measures  till  they  have 
been  distinctly  sanctioned  by  the  electorate,  till  they 
have  come  to  represent  the  reasoned  and  deliberate 
opinion  of  the  constituencies. 

It  is  extremely  important,  too,  that  something  of  a 
judicial  element  should  be  infused  into  politics.  In 
policies  that  are  closely  connected  with  party  conflicts, 
the  question  of  party  interest  will  always  dominate  in 
the  House  of  Commons  over  the  question  of  intrinsic 
merits.  A  bad  measure  will  often  be  carried,  though 
it  may  be  known  to  be  bad,  when  the  only  alternative 
is  the  displacement  of  a  ministry  supported  by  a  ma- 
jority. Under  these  circumstances,  the  existence  of 
a  revising  Chamber  which  is  so  constituted  that  it  can 
reject  a  measure  without  overthrowing  a  ministry,  and 
which  is  not  dependent  on  the  many  chances  of  a 
popular  election,  is  one  of  the  best  guarantees  of  sound 
legislation. 

It  is,  also,  one  of  the  greatest  and  most  distinctive 
excellences  of  British  legislation  that  it  is  in  general 
framed,  not  on  the  system  of  giving  a  decisive  victory 
to  one  set  of  interests,  and  obtaining  perfect  symmetry 
or  logical  coherence,  but  with  a  view  of  satisfying,  as 


376  DEMOCRACY  AND   LIBERTY  CH.  it. 

far  as  possible,  many  different  and  conflicting  interests, 
classes,  and  opinions.  The  permanence  and  efficacy 
of  legislation,  according  to  English  notions,  depends 
essentially  on  its  success  in  obtaining  the  widest  mea- 
sure of  assent  or  acquiescence,  and  provoking  the 
smallest  amount  of  friction  and  opposition.  In  carry- 
ing out  this  policy  the  action  of  the  House  of  Lords 
has  been  of  capital  importance.  Very  frequently  it  re- 
presents especially  the  minority  which  is  overpowered 
in  the  other  House.  The  will  of  the  majority  in  the 
stronger  Chamber  ultimately  prevails,  but  scarcely  a 
great  contentious  measure  passes  into  the  Statute  Book 
without  compromises,  modifications,  or  amendments 
designed  to  disarm  the  opposition,  or  to  satisfy  the 
wishes  of  minorities,  or  to  soften  the  harsher  features 
of  inevitable  transitions.  The  mere  consciousness  that 
there  is  another  and  a  revising  assembly,  whose  assent 
is  indispensable  to  legislation,  has  a  moderating  influ- 
ence on  majorities  and  ministries  which  it  is  difficult 
to  overvalue.  The  tyranny  of  majorities  is,  of  all  forms 
of  tyranny,  that  which,  in  the  conditions  of  modern 
life,  is  most  to  be  feared,  and  against  which  it  should 
be  the  chief  object  of  a  wise  statesman  to  provide. 

It  is  an  easy  and  frequent  device  of  Radical  writers 
to  assail  the  House  of  Lords  by  enumerating  the  mea- 
sures of  incontestable  value  which  it  had  for  a  time 
rejected  or  delayed.  -  That  it  has  in  its  long  history 
committed  many  faults  no  candid  man  will  deny, 
though  it  is  by  no  means  equally  clear  that  they  have 
greatly  exceeded  those  which  have  been  committed  by 
the  other  House.  In  my  own  opinion  the  side  of  its 
policy  which,  in  the  present  century,  has  been  the 
worst  is  that  relating  to  religious  disqualifications,  and 
the  fact  is  the  more  remarkable  because,  in  the  genera- 
tion that  followed  the  Revolution,  the  House  of  Lords 


CH.  IV.     CHARACTER   OP    ENGLISH   LEGISLATION        377 

was  incontestably  more  liberal  than  the  House  of  Com- 
mons in  all  questions  relating  to  Nonconformists.  In 
more  modern  times  this  has  not  been  the  case,  and  the 
doctrine  that  the  existence  of  an  Established  Church 
implied  that  State  funds  should  be  devoted  only  to  one 
form  of  religion,  and  that  the  great  fields  of  State 
power,  education,  influence,  and  employment  should 
be  guarded  by  religious  qualifications  against  the  ad- 
herents of  other  faiths,  prevailed  in  the  House  of  Lords 
long  after  it  had  broken  down  in  the  Commons.  It  is 
a  doctrine  which  has  played  a  great,  and,  as  I  believe, 
most  mischievous,  part  in  English  history.  In  the 
present  century  it  has  probably  found  its  most  power- 
ful defence  in  the  early  writings  and  speeches  of  Mr. 
Gladstone. 

At  the  same  time,  many  things  may  be  alleged  which 
will  at  least  mitigate  the  blame  that,  on  such  grounds, 
may  be  attached  to  the  House  of  Lords.  An  assembly 
which  is  essentially  representative  of  property  and 
tradition,  whose  chief  duty  is  much  less  to  initiate 
legislation  than  to  prevent  that  which  is  hasty  and 
unwise,  and  which  fulfils  rather  the  function  of  a 
brake  or  of  a  drag  than  of  a  propelling  force,  will  in- 
evitably be  slower  than  the  other  House  to  adopt  con- 
stitutional or  organic  changes.  The  legislative  reforms 
which  the  House  of  Lords  is  so  much  blamed  for  hav- 
ing rejected  all  became  law  with  its  consent ;  and,  on 
the  whole,  England  need  not  fear  comparison  with  any 
other  country  in  the  enlightened  character  of  her  legis- 
lation. If  a  few  countries  have  moved  more  rapidly, 
very  few  have  moved  so  surely,  and  the  pernjanence  of 
her  reforms  and  the  tranquillity  with  which  they  were 
effected  are  largely  due  to  the  existence  of  a  Chamber 
which  delayed  them  till  they  had  been  thoroughly 
sifted  and  incontestably  sanctioned  by  the  nation,  and 


378  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  iv. 

which  disarmed  opposition  by  introducing  compromises 
and  amendments  to  meet  the  wants  of  discontented 
minorities.  Of  the  measures  the  House  of  Lords  is 
accused  of  mutilating  or  delaying,  many  had  been  re- 
peatedly rejected  by  the  House  of  Commons  itself,  or 
had  never  been  brought  clearly  and  directly  before  the 
constituencies ;  or  had  been  supported  in  the  Lower 
House  by  small,  doubtful,  and  diminishing  majorities  ; 
or  had  excited  little  more  than  an  academic  interest, 
touching  no  real  feeling  throughout  the  nation.  It 
has  seldom,  if  ever,  rejected  measures  on  which  the 
will  of  the  people  had  been  decisively  and  persistently 
expressed. 

The  moment  of  its  greatest  unpopularity  was,  pro- 
bably, that  of  the  Reform  Bill  of  1832,  and  it  was  the 
firm  persuasion  of  the  Radical  wing  of  the  triumphant 
party  that  one  early  and  inevitable  consequence  of  the 
extended  suffrage  would  be  the  destruction,  ot  at  least 
the  total  transformation,  of  the  House  of  Lords.  The 
Whig  ministers,  it  is  true,  gave  no  countenance  to 
these  attacks,  but  the  agitation  against  the  Lords  was 
actively  maintained  by  O^Connell  and  by  a  considerable 
body  of  English  Radicals.  One  attempt  was  made  to 
deprive  it  of  its  veto,  and  another  to  expel  the  bishops 
from  its  walls ;  and  the  incompatibility  of  an  heredi- 
tary legislative  body  with  a  democratic  Parliament  was 
continually  affirmed  in  language  much  like  that  which 
we  so  abundantly  heard  before  the  election  of  1895. 
The  result  of  this  agitation  is  very  instructive.  On 
some  of  the  questions  on  which  the  Houses  differed 
the  House  of  Lords  yielded,  insisting  only  on  minor 
compromises.  On  the  important  question  of  the  ap- 
propriation of  Irish  Church  funds  to  secular  purposes 
it  succeeded  in  carrying  its  point.  The  agitation  for 
an  organic  change  in  the  Constitution  was  soon  found 


CH.  IV.  HEREDITARY  LEGISLATORS  379 

to  excite  more  alarm  than  approbation  in  the  country. 
The  current  of  opinion  turned  strongly  against  the  agi- 
tators, and  against  the  Government  which  those  agita- 
tors supported.  In  less  than  ten  years  the  revolution 
of  opinion  was  complete,  and  the  election  of  May  1841 
brought  a  Conservative  minister  into  power  at  the  head 
of  an  overwhelming  majority. 

We  may  next  consider  the  advantages  and  disadvan- 
tages of  the  hereditary  principle  in  the  Upper  House. 
It  was  a  saying  of  Franklin  that  there  is  no  more  rea- 
son in  hereditary  legislators  than  there  would  be  in 
hereditary  professors  of  mathematics.  In  England, 
however,  there  is  no  question  of  placing  the  making 
of  laws  in  the  hands  of  an  hereditary  class.  All  that 
the  Constitution  provides  is,  that  the  members  of  this 
class  should  have  a  fixed  place,  in  concurrence  with 
others,  in  accomplishing  the  task.  It  is  absurd  to  ex- 
pect that  the  eldest  son  of  a  single  family  shall  always 
display  exceptional,  or  even  average,  capacity,  and  this 
is  one  of  the  main  arguments  against  hereditary  de- 
spotic monarchy,  which  places  in  the  hands  of  one 
man,  selected  on  the  principle  of  strict  heredity,  one 
of  the  most  arduous  and  responsible  tasks  which  a 
human  being  can  undertake.  It  is  not,  however,  ab- 
surd to  expect  that  more  than  five  hundred  families, 
thrown  into  public  life  for  the  most  part  at  a  very 
early  age,  animated  by  all  its  traditions  and  ambitions, 
and  placed  under  circumstances  exceedingly  favourable 
to  the  development  of  political  talent,  should  produce 
a  large  amount  of  governing  faculty.  The  qualities 
required  for  successful  political  life  are  not,  like  poetry 
or  the  higher  forms  of  philosophy,  qualities  that  are  of 
a  very  rare  and  exceptional  order.  They  are,  for  the 
most  part,  qualities  of  judgment,  industry,  tact,  know- 
ledge of  men  and  of  affairs,  which  can  be  attained  to  a 


380  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY  ch.  iv 

high  degree  of  perfection  by  men  of  no  very  extraordi- 
nary intellectual  powers.  Outside  the  circle  of  the 
leisured  classes,  most  men  only  rise  to  great  positions 
in  political  life  at  a  mature  age,  and  after  a  long  strug- 
gle in  other  spheres.  Their  minds  have  already  taken 
their  definite  ply.  Their  best  thoughts  and  efforts 
have,  during  many  years,  been  devoted  to  wholly  dif- 
ferent pursuits.  When  they  come  into  the  House  of 
Commons,  they  have,  in  many  departments,  still  to 
learn  the  rudiments  of  their  art.  Even  if  they  are  men 
of  real  and  solid  attainments,  they  .have  commonly  lost 
their  flexibility,  and  defects  of  manner  or  of  tact  which 
might  be  easily  corrected  in  youth,  but  which  become 
indelible  in  mature  life,  often  obstruct  a  political  career 
far  more  seriously  than  much  graver  causes.  Everyone 
who  has  come  in  close  contact  with  parliamentary  life 
knows  how  seriously  the  popularity  and  influence  of 
members  of  very  real  attainments  have  been  impaired 
by  the  professorial  manner,  or  the  legal  manner,  or 
the  purely  academic  habit  of  mind,  or  the  egotism 
and  false  sentiment  that  often  accompany  a  self-made 
man  ;  or  the  incapacity  for  compromise,  for  avoiding 
friction,  for  distinguishing  different  degrees  of  im- 
portance and  seriousness,  which  characterises  a  man 
who  has  not  had  the  education  of  a  man  of  the  world. 
A  man,  too,  who  is  not  marked  out  in  any  way  by  his 
position  for  parliamentary  distinction  is  more  tempted 
than  those  of  another  class  to  make  sacrifices  of  prin- 
ciple and  character  to  win  the  prize.  He  is  likely  to 
be  more  absolutely  dependent  on  party  organisations, 
more  governed  by  the  desire  for  office,  or  title  or  social 
distinction. 

The  position  of  a  young  man,  on  the  other  hand, 
who  has  the  fortune  to  belong  to  one  of  the  great  go- 
verning families  is  very  different.     He  usually  obtains 


CH.  IV.  SOCIAL  ADVANTAGES  IN  POLITICS  381 

the  best  education  the  country  can  give  him,  and  he 
possesses  the  inestimable  advantage  of  coming  from  an 
early  age  into  close,  constant,  unconstrained  intercourse 
with  men  who  are  actively  engaged  in  the  government 
of  the  country.  In  many  great  families  the  whole  in- 
tellectual atmosphere  is  political.  Political  topics  are 
those  which  are  most  constantly  discussed  around  him, 
and  the  pride  and  greatness  of  the  family  lie  mainly  in 
the  political  distinction  which  has  been  achieved  by  its 
members  in  the  past,  and  the  political  influence  and 
connections  they  possess  in  the  present.  Examples 
and  incentives  are  thus  formed,  which  seldom  fail  to 
act  powerfully  on  a  young  man  of  talent  and  ambition, 
and  the  path  that  is  before  him  is  clearly  marked  out. 
He  travels,  and  knows  something  of  foreign  languages, 
and  although  his  knowledge  of  the  Continent  is,  usu- 
ally, exceedingly  superficial,  it  is  above  the  average 
that  is  attained  in  trade  or  in  the  professions ;  while 
the  social  element  in  which  he  moves  requires  from 
him  some  tincture  of  general  reading.  He  has,  usu- 
ally, the  immense  advantage  of  entering  the  House  of 
Commons  when  he  is  still  a  young  man,  and  he  very 
probably  soon  fills  one  of  the  subordinate  oflSces.  As 
an  actual  or  expectant  landlord ;  as  a  magistrate ;  as 
the  political  leader  of  his  district ;  as  the  initiator  or 
president  of  many  local  institutions  or  movements,  he 
obtains  an  early  aptitude  for  business,  an  intimate 
knowledge  of  the  characters  and  circumstances  of 
great  sections  of  the  people,  which  will  be  more  use- 
ful to  him  than  any  lesson  that  he  can  learn  from 
books.  The  manners  of  a  gentleman  come  to  him  al- 
most as  a  birthright,  and  no  good  judge  will  fail  to 
recognise  their  importance  in  political  life.  Self-con- 
fidence unalloyed  by  arrogance  or  egotism ;  the  light 
touch,  the  instinctive  tact  which  lessens  friction  and 


382  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  rv. 

avoids  points  of  difference-;  the  spirit  of  compromise 
and  conciliation,  which  is  so  useful  in  the  management 
of  men  and  in  the  conduct  of  affairs,  are  the  natural 
products  of  the  atmosphere  in  which  he  was  born. 
Having  a  great  independent  position,  he  is  less  acces- 
sible than  poorer  men  to  the  sordid  motives  that  play 
so  large  a  part  in  public  life ;  while  the  standard  of 
honour  of  his  class,  though  it  by  no  means  covers  the 
whole  field  of  morals,  at  least  guards  him  against  that 
large  department  of  bad  acts  which  can  be  designated 
as  ungentlemanly. 

The  reader  will,  of  course,  understand  that  this  de- 
scription has  only  a  very  general  application.  There 
are  many  cases  in  which  great  names  and  positions  are 
associated  only  with  lives  of  mischievous  self-indul- 
gence or  scandalous  vice.  There  are  circles  where 
luxury  is  carried  to  such  a  pitch  that  men  almost  come 
to  resemble  that  strange  species  of  ant  which  is  so  de- 
pendent on  the  ministrations  of  its  slave  ants  that  it 
would  starve  to  death  if  these  were  not  present  to  feed 
it.  The  enormous  and  elaborate  waste  of  time,  the 
colossal  luxury  of  ostentation,  the  endless  routine  of 
dressing  and  gossip  and  frivolous  amusements  that 
prevail  in  some  great  country  houses,  form  an  atmo- 
sphere which  is  well  fitted  to  kill  all  earnestness  of 
purpose  and  conviction.  The  pleasures  of  life  are 
made  its  business.  The  slaughter  of  countless  beasts 
and  birds  is  treated  as  if  it  were  a  main  object  of  ex- 
istence. Life  is  looked  down  upon  as  from  an  opera- 
box,  till  all  sense  of  its  seriousness  seems  to  vanish, 
and  the  conflicts  of  parties  are  followed  with  a  merely 
sporting  interest,  much  like  that  which  is  centred  on 
the  rival  horses  at  Newmarket  or  Ascot. 

It  is  no  less  true  that  there  are  numerous  cases  in 
which  men  who  were  born  in  spheres  far  removed  from 


CH.  IV.  THE  CLASS  AVERAGE  383 

those  of  the  governing  families  have  exhibited  in  high 
perfection  all  the  best  qualities  which  the  aristocratic 
system  is  calculated  to  foster.  But  we  are  dealing 
here  with  class  averages,  and  few  persons,  I  think,  will 
dispute  the  high  average  of  capacity  for  government 
which  the  circumstances  of  English  aristocratic  life 
tend  to  produce.  An  English  aristocracy,  as  has  been 
often  observed,  is  essentially  different  from  those  fo- 
reign aristocracies  which  constitute  a  separate  caste. 
Its  members  have  always  largely  intermarried  with  com- 
moners. Their  children,  except  the  eldest,  descend 
speedily  into  the  ranks  of  commoners  ;  they  are  usually 
obliged  to  make  their  own  positions  by  their  own  ef- 
forts, and,  since  the  great  reforms  that  have  taken 
place  in  the  bestowal  of  patronage,  without  unfair  ad- 
vantages ;  and  there  is  no  part  of  the  British  Empire 
in  which  members  of  great  British  families  may  not  be 
found  sharing  alike  the  most  arduous  labours  and  the 
most  hard-won  prizes. 

It  is,  unfortunately,  a  truth  only  too  abundantly  at- 
tested that,  as  a  general  rule,  few  greater  misfortunes 
can  befall  a  young  man  than  to  inherit  at  an  early  age 
such  a  fortune  as  places  at  his  feet  an  ample  range  of 
enjoyments  without  the  necessity  of  any  kind  of  labour. 
Strong  intellectual  tastes  and  powers,  and  unusual 
force  of  character,  will  make  their  way  through  any 
circumstances,  but  the  common  lot  of  man  is  to  be 
commonplace — though  there  are  few  imputations  which 
most  men  more  bitterly  resent — and  it  is  not  natural 
for  a  young  man  of  small  talent  and  very  ordinary  cha- 
racter to  devote  himself  to  steady  labour  when  no 
necessity  urges  him,  and  when  all  the  means  of  self- 
indulgence  are  at  his  disposal.  On  the  Continent  such 
young  men  commonly  gravitate  to  the  towns,  where 
a  life  of  pleasure  soon  passes  into  a  life  of  vice.     In 


384  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY  CH.  iv. 

England,  the  passion  for  field  sports  has  at  least  the 
advantage  of  supplying  a  large  sphere  of  unintellectual 
and  absorbing  amusement  which  is  healthy,  manly, 
and  innocent ;  but,  as  I  have  already  observed,  the 
special  preservative  in  England  of  the  character  of 
such  men  lies  in  a  social  condition  which  assigns  to  a 
wealthy  class  a  large  circle  of  necessary  duties,  and 
makes  the  gratuitous  discharge  of  public  functions  the 
appanage  and  sign  of  dignity. 

AnothOT  consideration  must  be  mentioned,  of  a  dif- 
ferent and  more  delicate  kind.  There  can  be  little 
doubt  that  the  conditions  most  favourable  for  a  high 
average  of  morality  are  to  be  found  in  the  temperate 
zones  of  life,  removed  from  the  ignorance,  the  degra- 
ding associations,  and  the  keen  temptations  of  want, 
and  also  from  the  luxurious,  enervating,  self-indulgent 
habits  of  superabundant  wealth.  The  one  great  moral 
advantage  which  specially  belongs  to  the  latter  sphere 
is  the  facility  of  early  marriage  which  an  assured  com- 
petence gives,  and  which  provides  in  a  very  critical 
period  of  life  a  strong  regulating  influence  of  character. 
It  will,  I  think,  be  found  that  these  marriages  are 
more  general  among  rich  men  connected  with  a  landed 
aristocracy  than  among  those  whose  fortunes  have  been 
rapidly  made  by  commerce  or  speculation.  Questions 
of  succession  hold  a  larger  place  in  the  lives  of  the 
former  class.  An  established  position  and  the  posses- 
sion of  a  great  historic  house  bring  duties  of  hospitality 
which  make  marriage  almost  a  necessity,  and  which 
are  rarely  fully  learned  except  by  early  practice  ;  and 
the  women  who  give  the  tone  and  the  attraction  to  Eng- 
lish aristocratic  society  seldom  fail,  even  in  the  most 
frivolous  and  pleasure-loving  circles,  to  insist  on  a  de- 
gree of  decorum  in  the  relation  of  the  sexes  which  is  not 
always  found  in  corresponding  societies  in  other  lands. 


CH.  IV.    ARISTOCRATIC  MARRIAGES  AND  TASTES       385 

The  importance  of  this  question  of  marriage  is  very 
great,  and  modern  science  has  thrown  much  light  on 
its  far-reaching  consequences.  Marriages  confined  to  a 
restricted  caste,  such  as  are  usual  in  royal  families  and, 
in  a  less  degree,  in  some  foreign  aristocracies,  seldom 
fail  to  result  in  physical,  mental,  or  moral  debility. 
An  aristocracy  which  marries  mainly  and  habitually 
for  wealth  is  likely  to  be  a  dwindling  body.  The  great 
heiress  who  concentrates  in  her  own  person  the  for- 
tunes of  a  family  is  commonly  such  because  she  comes 
from  a  family  in  which  children  are  unusually  few,  or 
in  which  deaths  are  unusually  numerous,  and  the  intro- 
duction of  such  women  into  a  family  has,  therefore,  a 
natural  tendency  to  lower  the  average  of  its  produc- 
tivity.^ But  where  marriages  are  not  unduly  limited 
by  conventional  restraints,  and  where  wealth  is  not 
too  exclusively  sought,  the  great  advantage  of  choice 
which  an  illustrious  position  gives  in  what  is  called, 
not  quite  unjustly,  the  *  matrimonial  market,'  has  an 
undoubted  tendency  to  improve  and  invigorate  a  race, 
by  grafting  into  its  stock  an  unusual  proportion  of 
more  than  common  physical  and  mental  endowments. 
Country  lives  and  tastes,  and  the  general  character  of 
their  marriages,  have  thus  combined  to  give  the  upper 
classes  in  England  a  high  physical  average,  which  has 
contributed  in  no  small  degree  to  their  influence  in  the 
world.  Whatever  else  may  be  said  of  them,  no  one  at 
least  can  accuse  them  of  being  an  effete  and  debilitated 
class.  The  energy  with  which  they  throw  themselves 
into  their  sports  and  travels  and  political  contests,  the 
mark  they  have  made  in  so  many  fields,  the  prominent 
part  they  have  taken  in  the  initiation  of  so  many  enter- 
prises, the  skill,  industry,  and  success  with  which  they 


'  See  Mr.  Galton's  Hereditary  Genius,  pp.  131-40. 
VOL.  I.  85 


386  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  iv. 

have  managed  great  properties  and  guided  local  affairs, 
are  sufficiently  evident. 

There  is  no  better  sign  of  the  vitality  of  a  class  than 
its  flexibility  of  adaptation  ;  and  in  this  respect  the 
upper  classes  in  England  have  been,  in  the  present 
century,  abundantly  proved.  When  the  great  demo- 
cratic movement  deprived  them  of  a  monopoly  or  a 
preference  in  vast  fields  of  administration  and  patron- 
age, they  did  not  shrink  from  public  life,  but  at  once 
accepted  the  new  conditions,  flung  themselves  boldly 
and  skilfully  into  all  the  competitions  of  English  life, 
and  retrieved  by  talent  and  personal  popularity  a  great 
part  of  the  ascendency  of  which  they  had  been  de- 
prived by  law.  A  still  graver  trial  followed  when 
agricultural  depression  fell  with  terrible  effect  on  the 
main  sources  of  their  income.  Few  things  are  more 
striking  in  modern  English  history  than  the  courage 
and  high  spirit  with  which  the  landed  gentry  of  Eng- 
land, both  of  the  higher  and  lower  grades,  have,  on  the 
whole,  met  the  trial,  discarding  conventional  rules 
and  restraints  which  limited  their  means  of  acquiring 
fortune,  bearing  with  uncomplaining  fortitude  great 
changes  of  life  and  habits,  throwing  themselves  boldly 
into  a  multitude  of  new  industrial  enterprises,  send- 
ing their  children  to  seek  a  livelihood  in  the  counting- 
houses  of  merchants,  the  ranches  of  Mexico,  or  the 
diamond-fields  of  Africa. 

That  very  shrewd  and  competent  observer.  Arch- 
bishop Magee,  once  remarked  that  nothing  struck  him 
more  in  the  House  of  Lords  than  the  large  amount  of 
curious  special  knowledge  possessed  by  its  members. 
When  the  most  out-of-the-way  subject  was  started  there 
seemed  always,  he  said,  some  obscure  peer  on  the  back 
benches  who  had  made  this  subject  a  study,  and  knew 
all  about  it.     In  the  fields  of  literature,  philosophy. 


CH.  IV.  USES  OP  AN  ARISTOCRACY  387 

and  science,  the  achievements  of  members  of  that 
House  have  been  very  considerable  ;  and  in  numerous 
cases,  where  no  original  work  is  produced,  an  un- 
usually high  level  of  scholarship  and  research  has 
been  attained.  But  it  is  naturally  in  political  life  that 
the  superior  qualities  of  the  class  have  been  most  dis- 
played. No  one  who  is  well  acquainted  with  English 
history  can  fail  to  be  struck  with  the  very  large  number 
of  its  members  who  have  fully  held  their  own  in  the 
conflicts  of  the  House  of  Commons,  and  who  have  dis- 
charged great  public  duties  with  an  industry  and  a 
skill  that  have  been  universally  recognised.  A  few  of 
these  statesmen  have  been  men  who  would  have  risen 
from  almost  any  rank  of  life  to  power  and  influence. 
The  majority  have  been  men  of  good,  but  not  ex- 
traordinary, ability  who,  if  they  had  been  born  in  hum- 
bler spheres,  would  probably  have  led  creditable  and 
successful  lives,  but  have  been  little  heard  of,  but  who, 
being  placed  by  their  positions  on  the  threshold  of 
public  life,  and  enabled  from  an  early  age,  and  with 
many  advantages,  to  devote  themselves  to  it,  have  at- 
tained a  proficiency  in  statesmanship  that  has  been  of 
great  service  to  their  country.  Among  the  Prime 
Ministers  since  the  Reform  Bill  of  1832  there  have 
been  several  who  represent  names  and  families  that  have 
been  for  centuries  illustrious  in  English  history  ;  and, 
in  our  own  generation,  one  of  the  most  brilliant  of 
these  Prime  Ministers  has  been  able,  without  incurring 
the  smallest  imputation  of  nepotism,  to  appoint  his 
eldest  son,  and  another  of  them  to  appoint  his  nephew, 
to  a  foremost  place  in  his  Administration. 

The  value  of  this  state  of  things  to  the  nation  at 
large  is  very  great.  There  are  countries  where  a  pub- 
lic man  is  nothing  before  he  comes  to  office,  and  no- 
thing when  he  quits  office,  and  almost  omnipotent  while 


388  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  iv. 

he  holds  office,  and  where  this  is  the  case  public  affairs 
seldom  fail  to  be  corruptly,  selfishly,  and  recklessly 
administered.  It  is  of  no  small  importance  that  a  na- 
tion should  possess  a  class  of  public  men,  of  undoubted 
competence  and  experience,  who  have  a  large  stake  in 
the  prosperity  of  the  country,  who  possess  a  great  posi- 
tion independent  of  politics,  who  represent  very  emi- 
nently the  traditions  and  the  continuity  of  political 
life,  and  who,  whatever  may  be  their  faults,  can  at  least 
be  trusted  to  administer  affairs  with  a  complete  personal 
integrity  and  honour.  In  the  fields  of  diplomacy,  and 
in  those  great  administrative  posts  which  are  so  nume- 
rous in  an  extended  empire,  high  rank,  and  the  manners 
that  commonly  accompany  it,  are  especially  valuable, 
and  their  weight  is  not  felt  least  powerfully  in  deal- 
ing with  democracies.  The  monarchy  and  the  aristo- 
cracy, which  some  writers  regard  as  merely  ornamental 
portions  of  the  constitution,  contribute  in  a  degree 
which  is  not  often  realised  to  its  greatness  and  its  co- 
hesion. It  is  not  the  British  House  of  Commons,  but 
the  British  Throne,  that  is  the  centre  of  the  loyalty 
and  affection  of  the  Colonies.  The  disruption  of 
America  from  the  British  Empire  was  largely  due  to 
the  encroachments  of  Parliament  on  the  ancient  pre- 
rogative of  the  Crown  ;  and  no  small  part  of  the  suc- 
cess of  English  colonial  government  is  due  to  the  class 
of  men  who  have  been  appointed  governors.  They 
have  represented  in  high  perfection  the  type  of  aristo- 
cratic statesman  which  English  institutions  produce, 
and  they  have  displayed  a  higher  average  of  compe- 
tence and  character  than  either  hereditary  sovereigns 
or  elected  presidents.  An  aristocratic  Government 
mainly  built  up  this  great  Empire  in  the  past.  The 
aristocratic  element  within  it  undoubtedly  contributes 
to  its  successful  administration  in  the  present.     Nor  is 


CH.  IV.  ITS  REPRESENTATIVE  CHARACTER  389 

it  a  matter  of  indifference  that  a  large  proportion  of  the 
men  who  have  held  high  office  in  India  and  the  Colo- 
nies return  after  their  period  of  office  to  the  House  of 
LordSj  bringing  to  it  a  knowledge  of  Indian  and  colo- 
nial affairs  that  is  seldom  equalled  in  the  House  of 
Commons. 

So  far  I  have  spoken  chiefly  of  the  ancient  heredi- 
tary element  in  the  House  of  Lords,  but  it  must  not  be 
forgotten  that  this  element  is  constantly  recruited  from 
without.  In  addition  to  the  members  of  the  episcopal 
bench,  great  landlords,  great  merchants  and  manufac- 
turers, great  lawyers  (in  superabundant  measure), 
great  soldiers,  sailors,  and  administrators,  are  con- 
stantly pouring  into  the  House  of  Lords  ;  and  it  is  also 
the  resource  of  many  experienced  statesmen  who  for 
some  cause  are  excluded  from  a  Cabinet  or  a  House  of 
Commons,  or  who  from  advancing  years,  or  failing 
health,  or  quiet  tastes,  find  the  strain  of  the  House  of 
Commons  excessive  or  distasteful.  The  system  of  pro- 
motion is  far  from  perfect,  and  some  of  its  defects  will 
be  hereafter  considered  ;  but  it  at  least  gives  the  House 
of  Lords  a  diversified  and  representative  character.  To 
those  who  can  look  beyond  names  and  forms  to  the  sub- 
stance of  things,  it  is  sufficiently  evident  that  a  body 
which  is  not  elective  may  be  eminently  representative, 
reflecting  and  maintaining  with  great  fidelity  the  inter- 
ests, characters,  wishes,  and  opinions  of  many  different 
classes  in  the  community.  It  is  equally  certain  that  a 
body  which  is  elected  on  the  widest  popular  suffrage 
may  be  so  largely  returned  by  a  single  class,  or  by  igno- 
rant men  duped  by  artful  men,  that  it  may  totally  fail 
to  represent  in  their  true  proportion  and  degree  the 
genuine  opinions  and  the  various  interests  of  its  con- 
stituents. 

Judging  by  this  test,  the  House  of  Lords  will,  I 


390  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  it. 

think,  rank  very  high.  Man  for  man,  it  is  quite  possi- 
ble that  it  represents  more  ability  and  knowledge  than 
the  House  of  Commons,  and  its  members  are  certainly 
able  to  discuss  public  affairs  in  a  more  single-minded 
and  disinterested  spirit.  In  all  questions  of  law  ;  in 
all  the  vast  range  of  subjects  connected  with  county 
government,  agricultural  interests,  and  the  state  of  the 
agricultural  poor ;  in  questions  connected  with  the 
Church  and  the  army  ;  and  it  may,  I  think,  be  added, 
with  foreign  policy,  and  often  with  Indian  and  colonial 
policy,  its  superiority  of  knowledge  is  very  marked.  It 
contains  important  representatives  of  the  great  manu- 
facturing and  commercial  interests,  some  of  the  greatest 
owners  of  town  property,  some  of  the  most  experienced 
administrators  of  distant  portions  of  the  Empire.  Ap- 
pointments to  the  episcopacy  are  now  made  in  a  much 
more  rational  fashion  than  in  the  days  of  what  were 
called  the  '  Greek  Play  Bishops,'  when  this  dignity  was 
chiefly  reserved  for  men  who  had  attained  distinction 
in  classical  scholarship.  Probably  the  majority  of 
modern  bishops  have  been  rectors  of  large  parishes  in 
town  or  country  ;  have  come  into  close  touch  with  the 
lives  of  the  poorer  /classes  in  the  community  ;  have 
spent  many  years  in  disinterested  labour  for  their  bene- 
fit, and  have  had  rare  opportunities  of  understanding 
their  real  wants,  characters,  tendencies,  difficulties,  and 
temptations.  As  the  reader  will  have  gathered,  I  do 
not  greatly  admire  the  action  of  the  bishops  in  the 
House  of  Lords  on  purely  ecclesiastical  questions,  and 
especially  on  questions  affecting  religious  liberty.  But, 
on  large  classes  of  questions  relating  to  the  poor,  it  is 
difficult  to  overrate  the  indirect  value  a  legislative  body 
derives  from  the  presence  of  men  who  possess  the  kind 
of  knowledge  and  the  kind  of  ability  which  are  to  be 
found  in  a  superior  parish  clergyman.     Philanthropists 


CH.  IV.  ITS  REPRESENTATIVE  CHARACTER  391 

who  have  devoted  themselves  to  social  questions  with 
eminent  skill  and  generosity  have  been  found  within 
the  House  of  Lords.  It  always  includes  a  large  amount 
of  matured  and  experienced  statesmanship,  and  a  great 
majority  of  those  who  take  an  active  part  in  its  pro- 
ceedings have  been  at  least  members  of  the  House  of 
Commons. 

Such  an  assembly  may  have  serious  defects,  and  it  is 
certainly  not  fitted  in  the  nineteenth  century  to  take  the 
leading  place  in  the  Constitution  ;  but  no  candid  man 
will  deny  that  it  is  largely  representative,  and  that  it 
includes  in  a  rare  degree  the  qualities  and  the  elements 
that  are  most  needed  in  revising  and  perfecting  legisla- 
tion. Its  members  are  the  natural  heads  of  the  gentry, 
and  especially  of  the  landed  gentry,  and  it  represents 
their  sentiments  and  is  supported  by  their  strength. 
Wise  statesmanship  will  always  seek  to  strengthen  go- 
vernment by  connecting  it  with  the  chief  elements  of 
independent  influence,  power,  and  popularity  that  exist 
throughout  the  nation.  No  one  who  has  any  real 
knowledge  of  the  English  people  will  doubt  the  high 
place  the  aristocracy  holds  among  these  elements.  Ev- 
ery electioneering  agent  knows  that  the  son  of  a  great 
peer  is  one  of  the  best  parliamentary  candidates  he  can 
run.  More  than  190  members  of  the  present  House  of 
Lords  have  been  previously  elected  to  the  House  of 
Commons,  and  a  great  proportion  of  them  have  passed 
directly  from  the  Lower  into  the  Upper  House. ^  In 
choosing  directors  for  companies,  presidents  for  chari- 
ties, chairmen  for  public  meetings,  initiators  for  almost 


'  In  a  speech  by  Mr.  Curzon,  of  Commons.     In  the  Constitu- 

in  a  debate  on  the  House  of  tional   Year-Book  for  1893  the 

Lords    (March   9,    1888),    it   is  number  at  that  time  is  said  (p. 

stated  that  there  were  then  194  60)  to  be  192. 
peers  who  had  sat  in  the  House 


392  DEMOCRACY   AND   LIBERTY  CH.  iv. 

every  kind  of  social,  industrial,  political,  or  philanthro- 
pic movement,  the  English  people  naturally  turn  to 
this  quarter.  The  adulation  of  rank  in  great  bodies  of 
men  is  often  irrational,  even  to  absurdity,  and  is  con- 
nected with  a  vein  of  vulgarity  that  runs  deeply  through 
English  nature.  But,  whatever  may  be  thought  of  it, 
it  at  least  shows  that  the  position  assigned  to  the  House 
of  Lords  in  the  Constitution  is  not  a  mere  arbitrary,  or 
exotic,  or  archaic  thing,  but  represents  a  real  and  living 
force  of  opinion  and  affection.  Political  leaders  may 
talk  the  language  of  pure  democracy  from  the  platform, 
but  no  Cabinet,  however  Radical,  has  ever  sat  in  Eng- 
land which  did  not  consist  largely  of  peers  and  of  men 
who  were  connected  with  peers,  while  the  great  ma- 
jority of  the  other  members  have  been,  usually,  posses- 
sors of  considerable  independent  fortunes. 

Nor  is  the  popular  English  sentiment  about  rank  in 
all  respects  vulgar  or  irrational.  In  a  vast  crowded 
population  established  position  does  something  to  raise 
a  man  into  the  clear  light  of  day  ;  it  forms  some  gua- 
rantee of  independence  and  of  integrity ;  and  something, 
at  least,  of  the  prevailing  feeling  is  due  to  a  well- 
founded  conviction  that  the  British  aristocracy  have 
been  distinguished  as  a  class  for  their  high  standard, 
both  of  personal  honour  and  of  public  duty.  It  is  idle 
to  suppose  that  great  masses  will  ever  judge  men  mainly 
by  their  intellectual  or  moral  qualities.  Other  and 
lower  measures  will  inevitably  prevail ;  and,  as  I  have 
elsewhere  said,  '  When  the  worship  of  rank  and  the 
worship  of  wealth  are  in  competition,  it  may  at  least 
be  said  that  the  existence  of  two  idols  diminishes  by 
dividing  the  force  of  each  superstition,  and  that  the 
latter  evil  is  an  increasing  one,  while  the  former  is 
never  again  likely  to  be  a  danger.^  In  England,  the 
aristocratic  classes  have  no  longer  the  complete  pre- 


CH.  IV.  INCREASING   LUXURY  393 

ponderance  of  wealth  they  once  possessed,  and  the 
great  depression  of  land  has  contributed  materially  to 
alter  their  position  ;  but  they  are  still  a  very  wealthy 
class,  and  some  of  their  members  are  among  the  richest 
men  in  the  world.  But  great  wealth  in  their  hands  is 
at  least  not  mere  plutocracy.  It  is  connected  with, 
and  tempered  by,  another  order  of  ideas.  It  is  associ- 
ated with  an  assured  social  position,  with  an  hereditary 
standard  of  honour,  with  great  responsibilities,  with  a 
large  circle  of  administrative  duties.  If  aristocracy 
were  to  cease  to  be  a  power  in  England,  its  social  in- 
fluence would  chiefly  pass  to  mere  wealth,  and  its  po- 
litical influence  would  largely  pass  to  the  managers  of 
party  organisations,  and  to  demagogues. 

The  evils  that  spring  from  mere  plutocracy  are  great, 
and  increasing.  One  of  the  most  evident  is  the  enor- 
mous growth  of  luxurious  living.  The  evil  does  not, 
in  my  opinion,  lie  in  the  multiplication  of  pleasures. 
Amusement,  no  doubt,  occupies  a  very  disproportionate 
place  in  many  lives,  and  many  men  grossly  mismanage 
their  pleasures,  and  the  amount  of  amusement  expected 
by  all  classes  and  ages  has  within  the  last  generation 
greatly  increased.  But  those  who  have  realised  the  in- 
finite pathos  of  human  life,  and  the  vast  variety  of 
human  tastes,  characters  and  temptations,  will  hesitate 
much  to  abridge  the  sum  of  human  enjoyment,  and 
will  look  with  an  indulgent  eye  on  many  pleasures 
which  are  far  from  cultivated,  elevating,  and  refined, 
provided  they  are  not  positively  vicious,  and  do  not 
bring  with  them  grave  and  manifest  evils.  What  is 
really  to  be  deplored  is  the  inordinate  and  ever-in- 
creasing expenditure  on  things  which  add  nothing,  or 
almost  nothing,  to  human  enjoyment.  It  is  the  race 
of  luxury,  the  mere  ostentation  of  wealth,  which 
values  all  things  by  their  cost. 


394  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  iv. 

This  feeling  is  wholly  distinct  from  the  love  of  art. 
To  minds  infected  with  it  beauty  itself  is  nothing  if  it 
is  common.  The  rose  and  the  violet  make  way  for  the 
stephanotis  and  the  orchid.  Common  fruits  and  vege- 
tables are  produced  at  great  expense  in  an  unnatural 
season.  The  play  is  estimated  by  the  splendour  of  its 
scenery.  Innumerable  attendants,  gorgeous  uphol- 
stery, masses  of  dazzling  jewellery,  rare  dishes  from  dis- 
tant countries,  ingenious  and  unexpected  refinements 
of  costly  luxury,  are  the  chief  marks  of  their  entertain- 
ments, and  the  hand  of  the  millionaire  is  always  seen. 
Nor  is  the  evil  restricted  to  the  small  circle  of  the  very 
rich.  From  rank  to  rank  the  standard  of  social  re- 
quirement is  raised,  making  society  more  cumbrous, 
extravagant,  and  ostentatious,  driving  from  it  by  the 
costliness  of  its  accessories  many  who  are  eminently 
fitted  to  adorn  it,  and  ruining  many  others  by  the  com- 
petition of  idle,  joyless,  useless  display.  It  is  a  ten- 
dency which  vulgarises  and  materialises  vast  fields  of 
English  life,  and  is  preparing  great  catastrophes  for 
the  future. 

The  acquisition  of  gigantic  fortunes  in  trade  or 
speculation,  and  the  desire  to  attain  by  these  fortunes 
a  high  social  position,  are  the  main  causes  of  this  in- 
creasing luxury,  which  is  so  prominent  in  England 
and  America,  and  which  contrasts  so  unfavourably 
with  the  far  simpler  and  more  human  social  inter- 
course of  many  foreign  countries.  Economists  per- 
haps press  their  case  too  far  when  they  assert  that  this 
kind  of  expenditure  is  wholly  unproductive.  The  at- 
traction of  luxury,  and  of  the  social  consideration  it 
implies,  is  a  great  spur  to  labour,  and  especially  to  the 
continuance  of  labour  after  a  moderate  competence  has 
been  acquired.  But  economists  are  not  wrong  in  point- 
ing out  the  enormous  waste  of  the  means  of  happiness 


CH.  IV.  INCREASING  LUXURY  395 

which  it  implies,  and  its  moral  and  political  evils  are  at 
least  as  great  as  its  economical  ones. 

An  aristocracy  occupying  an  undisputed  social  po- 
sition might  do  much  to  check  this  tendency.  At  a 
time  when  the  class  whom  they  specially  represent  are 
passing  through  the  dark  shadow  of  a  ruinous  agri- 
cultural depression,  it  would  be  peculiarly  graceful  and 
patriotic  if  those  among  them  who,  through  their  ur- 
ban properties  or  their  mineral  wealth,  have  escaped 
the  calamity  would  set,  without  compulsion,  the  ex- 
ample of  a  simpler  scale  of  living.  Some  of  them  have 
done  so.  Others  have  themselves  retained,  amid  very 
luxurious  surroundings,  much  personal  simplicity  of 
life  and  tastes.  The  doctrine  of  the  moral  obligation 
attaching  to  wealth  is  one  of  the  oldest  of  the  moral 
convictions  of  mankind.  *  If  thou  art  exalted  after 
having  been  low,^  says  an  Egyptian  writer  who  is  be- 
lieved to  have  lived  no  less  than  3,800  years  before  the 
Christian  era,^  '  if  thou  art  rich  after  having  been 
needy,  harden  not  thy  heart  because  of  thy  elevation. 
Thou  hast  but  become  a  steward  of  the  good  things  be- 
longing to  the  gods.'  On  the  whole,  this  truth  is  pro- 
bably more  acted  on  by  rich  men  whose  properties  are 
connected  with  land  than  by  any  others.  England 
always  furnishes  many  examples  of  great  fortunes 
expended  with  noble,  judicious,  and  unselfish  munifi- 
cence, sometimes  in  public  works  which  no  moderate 
fortune  could  undertake,  very  often  in  raising  the 
whole  level  of  comfort  and  civilisation  over  an  exten- 
sive property.  One  of  the  greatest  landlords  in  Eng- 
land told  me  that  he  calculated  that,  in  his  own  case, 
for  every  100?.  that  came  out  of  land,  75Z.  went  back  to 


'  The  Prisse  Papyrus.    See  Miss  Edwardes's  Pharaohs^  Fellahs^ 
and  Explorers,  p.  220. 


396  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  it. 

it.  Many  others,  as  patrons  of  art,  have  blended  their 
personal  gratification  with  much  benefit  to  the  country. 

Much,  too,  of  what  appears  luxury  is  not  really 
selfish.  The  vast  parks  that  surround  so  many  great 
country  houses  are  in  numerous  cases  thrown  open 
with  such  a  liberality  that  they  are  virtually  public 
property,  though  supported  exclusively  by  private 
means  ;  and  those  houses  themselves,  and  the  art  trea- 
sures which  they  contain,  have  been  for  the  most  part 
freely  exhibited  to  the  world.  It  must,  however,  be 
acknowledged  that  the  great  wave  of  increasing  luxu- 
ry which  has  swept  over  England  has  been  fully  felt 
in  aristocratic  circles,  and  especially  in  country  life. 
Among  the  not  very  numerous  mistakes  that  have  been 
made  by  the  great  English  landed  gentry  as  a  class, 
one  of  the  most  conspicuous  has,  I  think,  been  that 
enormous  over  -  preservation  of  game  which  grew  up 
in  the  last  years  of  the  eighteenth  century,^  and  has 
steadily  increased  to  our  own  day.  It  has  diminished 
the  productiveness  of  great  areas  of  English  land, 
brought  into  the  country  a  new  form  of  extravagant 
luxury,  and  essentially  altered  and  lowered  the  charac- 
ter of  field  sports.  The  Epicurean  sportsman  who, 
without  even  the  trouble  of  loading  his  guns,  shoots 
down  by  hundreds  the  pheasants  which  are  bred  like 
chickens  upon  his  estates,  and  which  are  driven  by  an 
army  of  beaters  into  his  presence,  is  by  no  means  a 
beautiful  figure  in  modern  country  life,  however  great 
may  be  the  skill  which  he  displays. 

But  the  worst  aspect  of  plutocracy  is  the  social  and 
political    influence    of    dishonestly   acquired    wealth. 


'  See   the  article  on  '  Battue  time  in  some  Continental  coun- 

Shooting '  in  Blaine's  Encyclo-  tries  before  it   was  introduced 

pcBciia  of  Field  Sports.     Battue  into  England, 
shooting  had  existed  for  some 


CH.  IV.  PLUTOCRACY  397 

While  most  of  the  fields  of  patronage  and  professional 
life  have  been  greatly  purified  during  the  present  cen- 
tury, the  conditions  of  modern  enterprise  in  the  chief 
European  countries,  and  still  more  in  the  United 
States,  give  much  scope  for  kinds  of  speculation  and 
financing  which  no  honest  man  would  pursue,  and  by 
which,  in  many  conspicuous  instances,  colossal  fortunes 
have  been  acquired.  It  is  an  evil  omen  for  the  future 
of  a  nation  when  men  who  have  acquired  such  fortunes 
force  their  way  into  great  social  positions,  and  become 
the  objects  of  admiration,  adulation,  and  imitation. 
One  of  the  first  duties,  and  one  of  the  chief  uses,  of 
courts  and  aristocracies  is  to  guard  the  higher  walks  of 
society  from  this  impure  contact ;  and  when  courts  and 
aristocracies  betray  their  trust,  and  themselves  bow 
before  the  golden  idol,  the  period  of  their  own  downfall 
is  not  far  distant. 

No  one  who  is  acquainted  with  society  in  England, 
Prance,  and  America  can  be  blind  to  the  disquieting 
signs  of  the  increasing  prominence  of  this  evil.  With 
the  decline  of  rank  and  the  breaking  down  of  old  cus- 
toms, conventionalities,  and  beliefs,  the  power  of  wealth 
in  the  world  seems  to  grow.  Where  cynicism  and  scep- 
ticism have  sapped  the  character,  wealth  comes  too  fre- 
quently to  be  looked  on  as  the  one  reality  of  life,  and 
as  atoning  for  every  misdeed.  When  the  decent  inter- 
val has  elapsed,  when  the  period  of  colossal  swindling 
has  been  duly  succeeded  by  the  period  of  lavish  and 
splendid  hospitality,  mingled,  perhaps,  with  ostenta- 
tious charity,  the  love  of  pleasure  and  luxury  begins  to 
operate,  and  the  old  social  restrictions  give  way.  In 
England,  it  may  be  truly  said  that  the  existence  and 
social  supremacy  of  an  aristocracy  is  some  barrier 
against  the  predominance  of  ill-gotten  riches.  Peer- 
ages are  often  granted  to  men  whose  chief  claim  is 


398  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  rv- 

their  wealth,  but,  with  few  and  doubtful  exceptions, 
this  has  been  only  done  when  wealth  has  been  honestly 
acquired,  and,  on  the  whole,  usefully,  or  at  least  re- 
spectably, employed.  In  political  life,  it  is  to  be  feared, 
the  standard  is  less  high.  If  modern  British  Govern- 
ments are  not  greatly  maligned,  there  have  been  in- 
stances in  which  peerages  and  other  honours  have  been 
very  literally  bought,  though  by  a  circuitous  process, 
in  the  shape  of  large  contributions  to  party  funds  ;  and 
other  instances  where  they  have  been  notoriously  given 
to  fix  waverers,  to  reward  apostasies,  to  induce  poli- 
ticians to  vote  for  measures  which  they  would  other- 
wise have  opposed.  But  it  is,  perhaps,  not  too  much 
to  say  that  this  is  the  only  form  of  dishonesty  which 
has  of  late  years  been  rewarded  by  a  seat  in  the  House 
of  Lords.  For  the  most  part,  the  influence  of  Court 
and  aristocracy  has  been  on  the  side  of  social  puri- 
ty and  financial  integrity,  though  there  have  been  ob- 
vious and  lamentable  exceptions. 

The  foregoing  considerations  will,  I  think,  serve  to 
show  that  the  hereditary  element  exercises  a  more  se- 
rious and  far-reaching  influence  over  the  well-being  of 
the  nation  than  is  sometimes  supposed.  At  the  same 
time,  it  is  impossible  to  deny  that  the  House  of  Lords 
does  not  occupy  the  position,  and  that  its  deliberations 
do  not  carry  with  them  the  weight,  that  might  be  ex- 
pected from  the  elements  of  which  it  is  composed.  An 
assembly  seems  sometimes  strangely  greater,  and  some- 
times strangely  less,  than  its  members,  and  few  things 
are  more  curious  than  the  contrast  between  the  too 
evident  debility  of  the  House  of  Lords  in  its,  corporate 
capacity,  and  the  great  weight  and  influence  of  a  large 
number  of  individual  peers.  As  Bagehot  has  justly 
observed,  the-  peers  who  exercise  the  greatest  influence 
in  county  life  are  seldom  those  who  appear  most  promi- 


CH.  IV.  DEBILITY  OF  THE  HOUSE  399 

nently  in  the  debates  of  the  House  of  Lords.  Except 
on  great  and  critical  occasions,  the  attendance  in  the 
House  is  very  small  :  on  an  average  only  about  a  fifth 
part  of  its  members  are  present,  and  important  deci- 
sions have  sometimes  been  taken  in  the  presence  of  not 
more  than  a  dozen  members.^  Every  peer  who  passes 
from  the  House  of  Commons  to  the  House  of  Lords  is 
struck  by  its  chilling,  well-bred  apathy,  by  the  inatten- 
tion and  indifference  of  the  few  men  who,  on  normal 
occasions,  are  scattered  over  its  empty  benches  while 
some  statesman  of  first-class  eminence  is  unfolding  his 
policy.  A  few  remarks,  chiefly  addressed  to  the  re- 
porters, by  the  leader  of  the  House,  by  the  leader  of 
the  Opposition,  by  a  great  lawyer  on  each  side,  and, 
perhaps — if  the  dinner-hour  is  not  too  near — by  one  or 
two  independent  peers,  usually  constitute  its  debates. 
There  are  few  atmospheres  in  which  young  and  rising 
talent  has  so  much  difficulty  in  emerging. 

No  such  apathy  is  displayed  by  individual  peers  in 
the  affairs  of  their  counties  ;  or  by  the  special  Com- 
mittees of  the  House  of  Lords,  which  often  do  admi- 
rable work  ;  or  by  the  members  of  that  House  who  take 
part  in  the  Joint  Committees  of  the  two  Houses ;  and 
in  the  few  questions  which  strongly  rouse  the  interest 
of  the  House  its  debates  are  often  models  of  grave,  elo- 
quent, and  exhaustive  discussion.  Many  causes  con- 
spire to  the  prevailing  tone.  The  rule  that  only  three 
members  were  needed  to  form  a  quorum  had  a  very 
mischievous  effect,  and  a  considerable  improvement  has 
been  produced  by  a  recent  standing  order  which  pro- 


'  See    May's      Constitutional  that  in  the  session  of  1885  the 

History,    i.    271-72.       In     his  average  attendance  in  the  House 

speecli   on   the   reform   of  the  of  Lords  was  110,   which   wa» 

House    of    Lords     (Marcli    19,  almost  exactly  a  fifth  part. 
1888),    Lord    Itosebery     stated 


400  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  iv. 

vides  that  if  on  a  division  thirty  lords  are  not  present 
the  business  on  hand  shall  be  adjourned. 

Another  slight  improvement  was  the  suspension,  in 
1868,  of  the  old  privilege  of  the  peers  to  vote  by  proxy. 
It  was  not,  perhaps,  a  matter  of  great  practical  im- 
portance, for  votes  are  rarely  determined  by  debate, 
and  on  party  questions  men's  opinions  are  early 
formed,  and  may  be  easily  anticipated.  The  system  of 
pairing,  even  for  long  periods,  is  fully  recognised  in 
the  House  of  Commons,  and  proxies,  as  is  well-known, 
are  largely  employed  in  the  very  important  meetings 
for  the  management  of  companies.  At  the  same  time, 
it  was  easy  to  attack,  and  impossible  altogether  to  de- 
fend, a  system  by  which  the  men  who  gave  the  verdict 
were  not  those  who  heard  the  arguments ;  and  that 
system  had  also  the  disadvantage  of  strengthening  two 
of  the  worst  characteristics  of  the  House — the  scanty 
attendance  of  its  members,  and  the  excessive  power 
often  exercised  by  a  single  peer.  It  also  increased  the 
political  importance  of  the  class  t>f  peers  who,  by  their 
tastes  and  habits,  are  most  unfit  to  be  legislators,  and 
who,  in  fact,  are  habitual  non-attendants.  Many 
members  of  the  House  of  Lords  are  conscious  that  they 
have  no  personal  competence  or  turn  for  legislation. 
Their  tastes  are  of  a  wholly  different  description.  They 
would  never  have  aspired  to  election,  and,  finding 
themselves  legislators  by  accident  of  birth,  and  having 
no  ambition  or  other  strong  motive  to  impel  them, 
they  are  scarcely  ever  seen  within  the  House,  unless 
they  are  urgently  summoned  to  some  important  party 
division.  Under  the  old  system,  however,  they  exer- 
cised much  habitual  influence,  as  they  readily  gave 
their  proxies  to  their  party  cliief . 

The  absence  of  such  men  from  a  legislative  body  is 
certainly  not  to  be  regretted.     Other  members  of  the 


OH.  IV.  DEBILITY  OF  THE   HOUSE  401 

House  feel  that  their  proper  sphere  of  action  is  else- 
where. The  bishops  know  that  their  special  work  lies 
in  their  dioceses,  and,  although  they  were  very  promi- 
nent in  opposition  to  the  Reform  Bill  of  1832,  an 
unwritten  conventionality  now  discourages  them  from 
taking  much  part  in  politics  that  are  unconnected  with 
their  profession.  Some  great  nobles  are  beginning  to 
feel,  with  Carlyle,  that  their  true  work  lies  in  the  wise 
administration  of  their  vast  properties,  and  not  in  po- 
litical contests,  where  they  can  only  play  a  secondary 
and  somewhat  humiliating  part.  The  consciousness 
that  the  House  of  Lords  must  always,  in  case  of  grave 
difference,  yield  to  the  House  of  Commons ;  that  every 
expression  of  independent  opinion  on  its  part  is  fol- 
lowed by  insolent  threats  of  revolution,  often  counte- 
nanced or  instigated  by  leaders  of  one  of  the  parties  in 
the  State  ;  that  one  of  its  first  objects  is  to  avoid  com- 
ing into  collision  with  the  House  of  Commons,  tends  to 
make  it  distasteful  to  men  of  high  character  and  spirit. 
It  deprives  it  of  the  moral  force  and  confidence  without 
which  it  can  never  have  its  due  weight  in  the  Consti- 
tution. There  is  a  widespread  feeling  among  its  more 
intelligent  members  that  a  considerable  amount  of 
well-bred  political  languor  is  very  desirable  in  such  a 
Chamber.  If  it  were  animated  by  a  strong  and  earnest 
political  spirit  it  would  never  acquiesce  in  the  com- 
pletely subordinate  position  assigned  to  it,  especially  as 
this  position  is  largely  due  to  usurpation  unsanctioned 
by  law.  Collisions  would  inevitably  arise,  and  some 
organic  change  would  follow.^ 


'  See    some    very    just,   but  on  Lord  Rosebery's  motion  for 

wonderfully  candid  and  rather  the   reform   of  the    House    of 

cynical,  remarks  of  Lord  Salis-  Lords  (March  19,  1888). 
bury  on  this  subject  in  a  speech 

VOL.  I.  26 


402  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  iv. 

Two  other  causes  conspire  in  the  same  direction. 
One  of  them  is  the  jealousy  which  the  House  of  Com- 
mons feels  at  the  initiation  of  Bills  in  the  House  of 
Lords.  A  session  of  the  House  of  Lords  usually  con- 
sists of  several  months  of  almost  complete  inactivity, 
followed  hy  a  few  weeks  when  the  pressure  of  work  sent 
up  from  the  House  of  Commons  is  so  great,  and  the 
time  in  which  it  must  be  accomplished  so  short,  that 
it  is  impossible  that  the  work  of  revision,  which  is  the 
special  task  of  the  Upper  House,  can  be  accomplished 
with  proper  deliberation.  Of  all  the  many  wastes  of 
power  that  take  place  in  English  political  life,  few  are 
more  deplorable  than  this.  Social  questions  have  come 
to  be,  in  our  day,  of  a  far  more  real  and  pressing  im- 
portance than  purely  political  ones  ;  and  in  the  House 
of  Lords  the  country  possesses  a  legislative  body  which, 
from  its  composition,  from  its  comparative  leisure,  and 
from  its  position  in  the  Constitution,  is  pre-eminently 
fitted  to  deal  with  them.  In  almost  every  joint  Com- 
mittee relating  to  social  questions  peers  have  been 
among  the  most  active  and  most  useful  members.  Yet, 
during  many  months  of  the  year  the  House  of  Lords  is 
almost  idle.  Its  leaders  know  that  the  Commons  would 
look  with  distrust  on  any  Bill  originating  with  them, 
and  there  is  little  use  in  introducing  Bills  which  are 
never  likely  to  become  law. 

Another  cause  is  the  complete  exclusion  of  the  House 
of  Lords  from  all  financial  legislation.  In  the  opinion 
of  the  best  historians,  taxation  was  at  one  period  im- 
posed separately  and  independently  by  Lords  and  Com- 
mons ;  but  the  Lords  taxed  only  their  own  body,  and 
the  Commons  the  classes  they  represented.  After  this, 
taxes  affecting  all  classes  alike  were  made  by  the  Com- 
mons, with  the  advice  and  assent  of  the  Lords,  and 
usually  as  a  result  of  a  conference  between  the  two 


OH.  IV.  AMENDING  MONEY  BILLS  403 

Houses.^  The  sole  right  of  the  Commons  to  originate 
money  Bills  was  recognised  at  least  as  early  as  the  reign 
of  Richard  11. ,  and  in  the  reign  of  Charles  I.  the  Com- 
mons began  to  omit  to  make  mention  of  the  Lords  in 
the  preambles  of  Bills  of  Supply,  as  though  the  grant 
were  exclusively  their  own,  though  the  Lords  were 
always  mentioned  in  the  enacting  words  of  the  Statute. 
But  although  the  Upper  House  could  not  originate 
money  Bills,  it  had  for  some  centuries  the  full  right  of 
amending  them.  There  are  numerous  cases  of  such 
amendments  having  been  agreed  to,  and  the  right  was 
not  seriously  questioned  till  after  the  Restoration.  In 
1671  the  Commons  carried  a  resolution  '  that,  in  all 
aids  given  to  the  King  by  the  Commons,  the  rate  or 
tax  ought  not  to  be  altered ' ;  and  in  1678  they  went 
still  further,  and  resolved  '  that  all  aids  and  supplies, 
and  aids  to  His  Majesty  in  Parliament,  are  the  sole  gift 
of  the  Commons,  and  all  Bills  for  the  granting  of  any 
such  aids  and  supplies  ought  to  begin  with  the  Com- 
mons, and  that  it  is  the  undoubted  and  sole  right  of 
the  Commons  to  direct,  limit,  and  appoint  in  such 
Bills  the  ends,  purposes,  considerations,  conditions, 
limitations,  and  qualifications  of  such  grants,  which 
ought  not  to  be  changed  or  altered  by  the  House  of 
Lords.' 

The  peers  were  by  no  means  inclined  to  acquiesce  in 
these  claims.  In  the  conferences  that  ensued  they  '  ut- 
terly denied  any  such  right  in  the  Commons,  further 
than  was  agreed  for  the  beginning  of  money  Bills  only.' 
'  In  all  other  respects,'  they  said,  '  and  to  all  intents 
and  purposes,  our  legislative  power  is  as  full  and  free 
as  theirs  ;  we  granted  as  well  as  they  ;  they  could  not 
grant  without  us,  not  so  much  as  for  themselves,  much 


»  Stubbs's  Const.  Hist.,  iii.  282-83,  49&-97. 


404  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  iv. 

less  for  us  ;  we  were  judges  and  counsellors  to  consider 
and  advise  concerning  the  ends  and  occasions  for  money 
as  well  as  they/  with  the  sole  exception  that  the  right 
of  beginning  Bills  was  with  the  Commons. 

Hallam  has  truly  noticed  how  clearly  the  prepon- 
derance of  argument  and  precedent  in  these  conferences 
was  on  the  side  of  the  peers/  and  a  resolution  of  the 
House  of  Commons  alone  has  no  legal  validity  ;  but 
yet  the  growing  power  of  the  Commons  enabled  them 
to  carry  their  point.  It  was  never  established  by  law, 
it  was  never  formally  admitted  by  the  other  House ; 
but  it,  nevertheless,  became  a  received  maxim  of  the 
Constitution  that  the  House  of  Lords  was  precluded, 
not  only  from  originating,  but  also  from  amending, 
money  Bills.  After  the  Revolution  this  power  was 
tacitly  extended  by  the  habit  of  enlarging  greatly  the 
number  of  Bills  which  were  considered  money  Bills. 
Even  measures  authorising  fees,  or  imposing  pecuni- 
ary penalties,  or  making  provision  for  the  payment  of 
salaries,  or  for  compensation  for  abolished  offices,  have 
been  treated  as  money  Bills,  and  therefore  beyond  the 
amending  power  of  the  Lords.^ 

It  has  been,  however,  extremely  difficult  to  maintain 
this  position  consistently,  for  large  classes  of  measures 
which  have  no  financial  object  have  incidental,  and 
sometimes  very  remote,  financial  effects,  and  occasion- 


•  Hallam's    Const.   ITist.,   iii.  the  development  of  the  powers 

28-30  (Cabinet  edition).  of  the  House  of  Lords.     See, 

'  Hallam's    Const.    Hist.,  iii.  too,    from    opposite    points   of 

30-33 ;     May's    Parliamentary  view,  Mr.  Spaldinpr's  House  of 

Practice  (ed.  1893),  pp.  542-46.  Lords,   and    Sir  W.    Charley's 

Mr.  Pike,  in  his   Constitutional  Crusade  against  the    Constitu- 

History  of  the  House  of  Lords,  tion,   1895.     This  last    book  is 

and   Mr.    Macpherson   on    The  especially  useful  as  a  collection 

Baronage  and  the  Senate,  have  of  facts  and  speeches  relating 

recently  traced  in  much  detail  to  its  recent  history. 


CH.  IV.  REJECTION  OP  MONEY  BILLS  405 

ally,  for  the  sake  of  public  convenience,  the  House  of 
Commons  has   slightly  relaxed  its  rule,  and   allowed 
amendments  to  pass  which  indirectly  involved  salaries 
or  fees.     Thus,  for  example,  the  operation  of  a  Bill  re- 
lating to  industrial  schools  has  been  prolonged  by  an 
amendment  in  the   Lords,  although   some  pecuniary 
consequences  would  follow  the  prolongation.     Some- 
times the  whole  financial  clause  in  a  non -financial  Bill 
has  been  rejected  by  the  Lords,  this  being  considered 
to  fall  within  the  class  of  rejection,  and  not  of  amend- 
ment.    In  1831  a  standing  order  was  made  directing 
the  Speaker,  in   cases   where  an   amendment  in   the 
Lords  involved  some  pecuniary  penalty,  to  report  to 
the  House  whether  the  object  of  the  Lords  appeared  to 
be  '  to  impose,  vary,  or  take  away  any  pecuniary  charge 
or  burthen  on  the  subject,'  or  whether  they  only  in- 
tended 'the  punishment  of  offences,  and  the  House 
shall  determine  whether  it  may  be  expedient  in  such 
particular  case  to  insist  uj^on  the  exercise  of  their  pri- 
vilege.'   In  1849  the  Commons  agreed  that  they  would 
not  insist  on  their  privilege  if  the  object  of  a  pecuniary 
penalty  was  merely  to  secure  the  execution  of  the  Act, 
or  the  punishment  and  prevention  of  offences,  or  when 
fees  were  imposed  in   respect  to  a  benefit  taken  or 
service  rendered,  or  when  they  form  part  of  a  private 
Bill  for  a  local  or  personal  act.     In  1858  they  agreed, 
in  the  case  of  private   Bills,  to  accept  'any  clauses 
sent  down  from  the  House  of  Lords  which  refer  to 
tolls  and  charges  for  services  performed,  and  which  are 
not  in  the  nature  of  a  tax.'     Sometimes  it  has  been 
found  convenient  that  non-financial  Bills  which,  how- 
ever, involve  salaries  or  fees  should  originate  in  the 
Lords.    In  these  cases  financial  provisoes  have  been  pre- 
pared, discussed,  and  voted  on  in  the  Lords,  but  with- 
drawn at  the  third  reading.     They  were,  therefore,  not 


406  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  iv. 

brought  before  the  Commons  as  part  of  the  Bill,  but 
they  were  printed  in  red  ink  on  the  margin,  so  that 
the  House  of  Commons  had  the  suggestions  of  the 
Lords  informally  before  it,  and  was,  of  course,  at  liber- 
ty to  treat  them  as  it  pleased.  By  these  expedients 
some  difficulties  have  been  overcome  and  some  con- 
veniences attained  without  altering  the  received  rule 
that  the  Lords  have  no  power  of  originating  or  amend- 
ing money  Bills. ^ 

One  power,  however,  they  seemed  still  to  possess. 
No  tax  could  be  legally  imposed  except  by  an  Act  of 
Parliament,  and  as  there  can  be  no  Act  of  Parliament 
without  the  assent  of  the  Lords,  the  Upper  House  had 
at  least  the  power  of  withliolding  that  assent,  and  thus 
rejecting  the  Bill.  Nothing  in  law,  nothing  in  history, 
and,  it  may  be  added,  nothing  in  reason,  denied  them 
this  power,  and  for  some  time  after  the  right  of  amend- 
ment had  vanished  it  was  fully  acknowledged.  But 
this  power  also  went  the  way  of  the  royal  veto.  The 
doctrine  that  taxation  was  essentially  a  matter  for  the 
Commons  alone  grew  and  strengthened,  especially  du- 
ring the  controversies  that  arose  out  of  the  American 
revolution.  'Taxation,'  Chatham  once  said,  'is  no 
part  of  the  governing  or  legislative  power.  The  taxes 
are  a  voluntary  gift  and  grant  of  the  Commons  alone. 
In  legislation  the  three  estates  of  the  realm  are  alike 
concerned ;  but  the  concurrence  of  the  peers  and 
Crown  to  a  tax  is  only  necessary  to  clothe  it  with  the 
form  of  law.  The  gift  and  grant  is  of  the  Commons 
alone.'  This. doctrine  is  very  far  from  being  beyond 
controversy,  but  it  had  a  popular  sound,  and  it  was 
widely  accepted.     The  House  of  Lords,  shrinking  from 

'  May's  Pari.  Practice^  pp.  644-49 ;  May's  Const.  Hist.^  i.  482- 
89. 


CH.  IV.  THE  PAPER  DUTIES  407 

conflicts  of  privilege,  and  perhaps  content  with  the 
indirect  influence  which  its  members  exercised  in  the 
Commons,  very  rarely  even  discussed  measures  which 
were  exclusively  or  mainly  financial,  though  it  fre- 
quently rejected  or  postponed  measures  incidentally 
affecting  taxation. 

The  last  great  conflict  on  this  subject  was  in  1860, 
when  Mr.  Gladstone,  as  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer 
in  the  Government  of  Lord  Palmerston,  proposed  the 
abolition  of  the  paper  duties.  The  repealing  measure 
was  introduced  in  the  usual  way  as  a  separate  Bill,  but 
it  formed  part  of  a  large  and  complicated  Budget  in- 
volving extensive  remissions  of  indirect  taxation,  the 
imposition  of  a  number  of  small  taxes,  the  reimposi- 
tion  of  the  income-tax — which  was  intended  to  have 
expired  in  this  year — its  increase  from  9^.  to  lOd.  in 
the  pound,  and  a  provision  for  bringing  three-fourths 
of  this  tax,  instead  of  half  only,  into  the  Exchequer 
within  the  financial  year.  The  paper  duty,  which  it 
was  determined  to  repeal,  was  estimated  at  1,200,0007. 
or  1,300,000?.^ 

Several  things  contributed  to  make  so  great  a  sacri- 
fice of  ordinary  revenue  at  this  time  seem  of  doubtful 
expediency.  A  commercial  treaty  with  France  had 
just  been  concluded,  and  it  would  involve  a  great  low- 
ering of  duties.  The  political  relations  with  France 
were,  also,  not  unclouded,  and  the  prevalent  feeling  of 
distrust  had  shown  itself  in  the  expenditure  of  a  very 
large  sum  in  fortifying  our  dockyards.  A  war  with 
China  was  raging,  and  it  had  assumed  more  formidable 
dimensions  during  the  period  between  the  introduction 
of  the  Budget  and  its  completion  in  the  Commons. 


>  See  Sir  Stafford  Northcote's  Twenty  Years  of  FinandcU  Po- 
licy, pp.  351-66. 


408  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  iv. 

The  renewal  and  the  high  and  increasing  rate  of  the 
income-tax  fell,  also,  heavily  on  large  classes.  The 
feeling  of  the  House  of  Commons  was  very  significantly 
shown  by  diminishing  majorities.  The  second  reading 
of  the  repeal  of  the  paper  duties  was  carried  by  a  ma- 
jority of  fifty-three.  On  the  third  reading  the  Govern- 
ment majority  had  sunk  to  nine. 

When  a  powerful  and  popular  Government  could 
only  command  such  a  majority  on  the  third  reading  of  a 
great  contested  measure,  there  could  be  little  doubt  that 
the  real  opinion  of  the  House  of  Commons  was  hostile 
to  that  measure.  It  is  probable  that  most  members  of 
the  Cabinet  would  have  gladly  postponed  to  another 
year  the  repeal  of  the  paper  duties.  But  it  is  not  easy 
for  a  Government  to  recede  from  a  position  which  it 
has  formally  adopted  ;  and  it  was  impossible  for  Lord 
Palmerston  to  do  so  without  breaking  up  his  Govern- 
ment when  so  important  a  colleague  as  Mr.  Gladstone 
was  determined  at  all  hazards  to  carry  the  measure. 
The  real  opinions  of  Lord  Palmerston  are  clearly  dis- 
closed in  an  extract  which  has  been  published  from  a 
letter  written  by  him  to  the  Queen,  announcing  to  Her 
Majesty  the  extremely  small  majority  by  which  the  Bill 
had  passed  its  third  reading  in  the  Commons.  '  This,' 
he  writes,  'may  probably  encourage  the  House  of 
Lords  to  throw  out  the  Bill  when  it  comes  to  their 
House,  and  Viscount  Palmerston  is  bound  in  duty  to 
say  that,  if  they  do  so,  they  will  perform  a  good  public 
service.  Circumstances  have  greatly  changed  since  the 
measure  was  agreed  to  by  the  Cabinet,  and  although  it 
would  undoubtedly  have  been  difficult  for  the  Govern- 
ment to  have  given  up  the  Bill,  yet,  if  Parliament  were 
to  reject  it,  the  Government  might  well  submit  to  so 
welcome  a  defeat.' ' 

'  Martin's  Life  of  the  Prince  Consort^  v.  100. 


CH.  IV.  THE  PAPER  DUTIES  409 

The  House  of  Lords  acted  as  Lord  Palmerstou  anti- 
cipated, and  evidently  desired.  While  the  other  Bills 
relating  to  finance  were  accepted  without  question, 
the  Bill  repealing  the  paper  duties  was  thrown  out  by 
a  majority  of  no  less  than  eighty-nine. 

Mr.  Gladstone,  in  a  speech  of  extraordinary  elo- 
quence, which  was  eminently  calculated,  as  it  was 
manifestly  intended,  to  inflame  and  envenom  the 
difference  between  the  Houses,  denounced  this  pro- 
ceeding as  'the  most  gigantic  and  the  most  dangerous 
innovation  that  has  been  attempted  in  our  times/  and 
a  large  part  of  the  Liberal  party,  both  in  the  House 
and  in  the  country,  were  ready  to  support  him  in  a 
violent  collision  with  the  Lords.  Lord  Palmerston, 
however,  in  a  very  difficult  position,  conducted  the 
controversy  with  a  skill,  tact,  and  moderation  that 
could  not  be  surpassed,  and  by  his  eminently  patriotic 
conduct  a  great  danger  was  averted.  A  Commission 
was  appointed  to  examine  precedents,  and,  under  the 
influence  of  Lord  Palmerston,  the  House  of  Commons 
contented  itself  with  carrying  three  resolutions.  The 
first  asserted  '  that  the  right  of  granting  aids  and  sup- 
plies to  the  Crown  is  in  the  Commons  alone.'  The 
second,  while  acknowledging  that  the  Lords  had  some- 
times exercised  the  power  of  rejecting  Bills  relating  to 
taxation,  stated  that  this  power  was  justly  regarded  by 
the  Commons  with  peculiar  jealousy,  as  affecting  their 
right  to  grant  supplies  ;  and  the  third  stated  *  that,  to 
guard  for  the  future  against  an  undue  exercise  of  that 
power  by  the  Lords,  and  to  secure  to  the  Commons 
their  rightful  control  over  taxation  and  Supply,  this 
House  has  in  its  own  hands  the  power  so  to  impose 
and  remit  taxes,  and  to  frame  Bills  of  Supply,  that 
the  right  of  the  Commons  as  to  the  matter,  manner, 
measure,  and  time  may  be  maintained  inviolate/ 


410  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  iv. 

These  resolutions  were  carried  unanimously,  though 
not  without  much  criticism  and  after  a  long  and  in- 
structive debate.  It  was  asserted  on  the  one  side,  and 
not  denied  on  the  other,  that  the  House  of  Lords 
had  acted  in  perfect  accordance  with  the  law  of  the 
land.  In  the  conferences  that  had  taken  place  be- 
tween the  two  Houses  after  the  Kestoration,  when  the 
right  of  amending  money  Bills  was  denied  to  the 
Lords,  the  Managers,  on  the  part  of  the  Commons, 
formally  and  expressly  admitted  the  right  of  the  Upper 
House  to  reject  them.  This  right,  it  was  said,  was  a 
settled  principle  of  the  Constitution,  and  it  had  never 
been  withdrawn,  surrendered,  or  denied.  The  Consti- 
tution, by  making  the  assent  of  the  House  of  Lords 
essential  to  the  validity  of  a  tax,  clearly  implied  that 
the  House  of  Lords  had  the  right  of  withholding  that 
assent.  Blackstone,  while  enumerating  in  emphatic 
terms  its  disabilities  in  matters  of  finance,  described  its 
right  of  rejecting  money  Bills  as  absolutely  incon- 
testable.^ Nor  was  there  on  this  point  any  real  differ- 
ence of  opinion  among  writers  on  the  Constitution.^ 
'  Nothing,^  said  Lord  Lyndhurst  in  the  House  of 
Lords,  '  can  be  found  in  the  Parliamentary  Journals, 
or  in  any  history  of  parliamentary  proceedings,  to 
show  that  our  right  to  reject  money  Bills  has  been 
questioned.'     The  Commission   which  had  just  been 


'  '  It  would  be  extremely  dan-  House  to  exert  any  power  but 

gerous  to   give   the  Lords  any  that    of    rejecting.     They   will 

power  of  framing  new  taxes  for  not  permit  the  least   alteration 

the  subject.     It  is  sufficient  that  or  amendment  to  be   made  by 

they  have  a  power  of  rejecting  the  Lords  '  (Blackstone^  Book  i. 

if  they  think  the  Commons  too  chapter  ii.). 

lavish  or   improvident   in  their  '  See    Hallam's     History    of 

grants.      But  so  reasonably  jea-  England^  \\\.'i\\  May's  Par/i'a- 

lous   are  the  Commons  of  this  mentary   Practice,  p.  650   (ed. 

valuable  privilege,   that  herein  1893). 
they  will  not  suffer  the  other 


CH.  IV.  THE  PAPER  DUTIES  411 

appointed  to  examine  precedents  had  discovered  be- 
tween 1714  and  1860  about  thirty-six  cases  of  Bills  re- 
pealing duties  or  imposts  of  some  kind,  and  a  much 
greater  number  of  Bills  imposing  charges,  which  had 
passed  through  the  Commons,  and  which  had  failed  in 
the  Lords,  In  all  or  nearly  all  these  cases  the  action 
of  the  House  of  Lords  was  unchallenged. 

In  the  face  of  such  facts  it  was  surely  absurd  to 
argue  that  the  House  of  Lords  was  not  within  its 
rights  in  throwing  out  the  paper  duties.  And  if  it 
had  a  right  to  do  so,  it  was  not  difficult  to  defend  the 
expediency  of  its  act.  This  great  sacrifice  of  perma- 
nent revenue  had  been  urged  on  political  rather  than 
financial  grounds.  It  had  been  introduced  at  a  time 
when  both  the  political  and  the  financial  prospects 
were  singularly  overclouded,  and  since  its  first  intro- 
duction the  circumstances  of  the  country  had  greatly 
changed,  and  the  inexpediency  of  the  measure  had 
greatly  increased.  The  small  and  steadily  declining 
majorities  in  the  House  of  Commons  clearly  showed 
that,  without  strong  party  and  ministerial  pressure,  it 
could  not  have  been  carried. 

In  reply  to  these  arguments  it  was  contended  that, 
though  the  House  of  Lords  had  acted  within  its  techni- 
cal rights,  its  conduct  in  throwing  out  an  important 
Bill  relating  to  the  ways  and  means  of  the  year  was 
contrary  to  ^constitutional  usage,'  and  inconsistent 
with  the  principle  the  Commons  had  frequently  as- 
serted, that  'all  aids  and  supplies  granted  to  Her 
Majesty  in  Parliament  are  the  sole  and  entire  gifts  of 
the  Commons.'  By  whose  authority  or  action,  it  was 
asked,  would  the  paper  duties  be  collected  in  the  en- 
suing year  ?  Would  it  not  be  solely  by  that  of  the 
House  of  Lords  ?  If  the  Commons  had  combined  in 
a  single  measure  the  increase  of  the  income-tax  and 


412  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  iv. 

the  repeal  of  the  paper  duties,  it  would  have  been 
confessedly  beyond  the  power  of  the  Lords  to  amend 
the  Bill  by  accepting  one  part  of  it  and  rejecting 
the  other.  "Was  the  course  they  had  actually  pur- 
sued essentially  different  from  this  ?  To  reject  an 
important  money  Bill,  and  thereby  disturb  the  balance 
of  the  financial  arrangements  of  the  year,  was  in  reality 
a  greater  infringement  of  the  sole  competence  of  the 
House  of  Commons  in  matters  of  finance  than  to  in- 
troduce into  a  money  Bill  some  trifling  amendment. 
The  precedents  that  had  been  adduced  were  jealously 
scrutinised,  and  pronounced  to  be  inapplicable.  The 
Bills  that  had  been  rejected  had  been  political  Bills, 
discussed  and  rejected  on  political,  and  not  on  finan- 
cial, grounds,  and  they  were  Bills  by  which  finance 
was  only  slightly,  incidentally,  and  remotely  affected. 
Most  of  them  were  measures  of  protection,  encoura- 
ging different  forms  of  industry  by  duties  or  bounties. 
Others  were  measures  imposing  or  remitting  penalties, 
creating  or  abolishing  salaried  offices.  The  rejection 
of  such  Bills  was  a  very  different  thing  from  an  at- 
tempt to  recast  or  materially  modify  the  Budget  of  the 
year.  For  two  hundred  years,  it  was  said,  the  House 
of  Lords  had  never  taken  such  a  step,  never  rejected 
on  purely  financial  grounds  a  Bill  imposing  or  remit- 
ting taxation.  Great  commercial  interests  would  be 
affected  by  its  action,  and  still  more  by  the  precedent 
it  established,  for  men  of  business  had  hitherto  always 
assumed  that  they  might  take  their  measures  and  base 
their  calculations  on  the  Budget  as  soon  as  it  had 
passed  the  Commons. 

Whatever  may  be  thought  of  the  weight  of  argu- 
ment, the  weight  of  power  was  on  the  side  of  the  Com- 
mons. As  a  matter  of  reason,  indeed,  resolutions  had 
been  adopted  and  precedents  formed  which  reduced 


CH.  IV.  TRIUMPH  OP  THE  COMMONS  413 

the  whole  question  at  issue  to  hopeless  confusion.  It 
was  absurd  to  assert,  as  the  Commons  had  repeatedly 
done,  that  money  grants  were  their  *  sole  and  entire 
gift,'  when  'they  were  unable  to  grant  a  farthing  with- 
out the  assent  of  the  Lords  ;  and  the  power  of  rejection 
and  the  power  of  amendment  stood  so  much  on  the 
same  ground,  and  were  in  some  cases  so  indissolubly 
connected,  that  it  was  very  difficult  to  accept  the  one 
and  to  deny  the  other.  By  a  tacit  understanding,  fully 
acquiesced  in,  though  unestablished  by  law,  the  House 
of  Lords  had  no  power  of  amending  money  Bills,  while 
its  power  of  rejecting  them  had  been  established  by  a 
long  chain  of  precedents,  formally  acknowledged  by 
the  House  of  Commons,  and  admitted  as  unquestiona- 
ble by  every  serious  writer  on  the  Constitution.  Yet 
it  was  very  evident  that  the  one  power  might  be  so 
used  as  to  be  practically  equivalent  to  the  other.  The 
Commons,  however,  in  the  year  after  this  dispute, 
adopted  a  method  which  effectually  J)revented  the 
Lords  from  exercising  any  revising  power  in  finance. 
They  combined  the  repeal  of  the  paper  duties  with  all 
the  other  portions  of  the  Budget  in  a  single  Bill,  and 
the  Lords  had,  therefore,  no  power  of  rejecting  one 
part  unless  they  took  the  responsibility  of  rejecting  the 
whole.  This  method  has  since  become  the  usual  one. 
So  completely  has  the  sole  competence  of  the  House  of 
Commons  been  recognised,  that  it  has  become  the  cus- 
tom to  levy  new  duties  and  increased  duties  from  the 
time  they  had  been  agreed  to  by  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, without  waiting  for  the  assent  of  the  Lords  and 
of  the  Crown,  which  alone  could  give  them  the  force  of 
law. 

Much  of  the  jealousy  of  the  interference  of  the  Lords 
with  financial  matters  which  was  displayed  at  the  time 
of  the  Restoration  was  due  to  the  fact  that  this  body 


414  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  iv. 

was  then  greatly  under  the  influence  of  the  Crown,  and 
that  the  chief  constitutional  conflicts  of  that  period  lay 
between  the  power  of  the  Commons  and  the  power  of 
the  Crown.  A  still  more  important  consideration  was 
the  belief  that  a  tax  is  the  free  gift  of  the  people,  and 
that  it  ought,  therefore,  to  be  under  the  sole  control  of 
the  representatives  of  those  who  give  it.  Such  a  con- 
trol was  once  considered  a  guarantee  that  no  one  could 
be  taxed  unduly,  unrighteously,  or  against  his  will. 
The  old  principle  of  connecting  indissolubly  taxation 
and  representation  has,  probably,  never  been  more 
loudly  professed  than  in  the  present  day ;  but  this  is 
only  one  of  the  many  instances  in  which  men  cheat 
themselves  by  forms  and  phrases,  while  the  underly- 
ing meaning  has  almost  wholly  passed  away.  The 
members  of  the  House  of  Lords  are  owners  of  a  great 
proportion  of  the  largest  properties  in  Great  Britain, 
yet  they  have  no  part  in  enacting  the  imperial  taxes 
they  pay.  Their  House  is  excluded  from  all  participa- 
tion in  finance,  and  they  have  no  voice  in  the  House  of 
Commons.  At  the  same  time,  the  whole  drift  of  demo- 
cratic government  is  to  diminish  or  to  destroy  the  con- 
trol which  property  in  England  once  had  over  taxation. 
As  I  have  already  observed,  the  true  meaning  and  jus- 
tification of  the  special  political  powers  vested  in  large 
tax-payers  was,  that  those  who  chiefly  pay  should  chiefly 
control ;  that  the  kinds  of  property  which  contribute 
most  to  support  government  should  have  most  weight 
in  regulating  it ;  that  it  is  one  of  the  first  duties  of  a 
legislator  to  provide  that  one  class  should  not  have  the 
power  of  voting  the  taxes,  while  another  class  were 
obliged  to  pay  them.  It  is  plain  that  this  fundamen- 
tal element  in  the  British  Constitution  is  being  rapidly 
destroyed.  One  of  the  most  popular  and  growing  ideas 
in  English  politics  is,  that  by  giving  an  overwhelming- 


CH.  IV.  FINANCIAL  CONTROL  416 

voting  power  to  the  poorer  classes  tliey  may  be  able  to 
attain  a  high  level  of  well-being,  by  compelling  the 
propertied  classes  to  pay  more  and  more  for  their 
benefit. 

A  broad  distinction  must  be  drawn  between  the 
maxim  that  the  Commons  alone  should  have  the  right 
to  originate  taxes,  and  the  maxim  that  the  Upper 
House  should  have  no  power  either  of  amending  or 
rejecting  its  financial  legislation.  The  former  right  is 
recognised,  after  the  English  model,  in  most  of  the 
constitutions  of  free  nations,  though  there  are  several 
exceptions.  The  most  remarkable  are  Austria,  Prussia, 
the  German  Empire,  and  the  Swiss  Federation,  in  all 
of  which  a  financial  measure  may  be  introduced  equal- 
ly either  in  the  Upper  or  the  Lower  House.^  In  the 
United  States,  the  House  of  Representatives  maintains 
the  sole  right  of  originating  taxes ;  but  in  the  State 
legislatures  a  different  principle  prevails,  and  it  is  said 
that  there  are  twenty-one  States  in  which  financial 
measures  may  be  brought  forward  in  either  House. ^ 
In  a  few  Continental  constitutions  the  Upper  Chamber 
has  the  power  of  rejecting,  but  not  of  amending,  money 
Bills,^  but  in  most  constitutions  it  is  granted  both 
powers ;  and  this  is  also  the  system  in  the  United 
States. 

There  is  a  great  and  manifest  danger  in  placing  the 
most  important  of  all  branches  of  legislation  in  the 
uncontrolled  power  of  one  House.  It  leaves  the  con- 
stitution absolutely  unbalanced  in  the  department  in 
which  beyond  all  others  there  is  most  danger,  and 
where  balance  and  restriction  are  most  required  ;  and 
it  is,  I  think,  much  to  be  desired  that,  if  the  Upper 


>  Morizot-Thibault,  Des  Droits      de  Finances^  pp.  64,  60,  73,  94. 
des  Chambres  Hautes  en  matiere         "  Ibid.  p.  82.      ^  Ibid.  p.  134. 


416  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  IV. 

House  should  ever  be  so  remodelled  as  to  carry  with  it 
increased  weight  in  the  country,  it  should  be  entrusted 
with  the  same  powers  of  control  and  revision  in  matters 
of  finance  that  are  possessed  by  the  American  Senate. 
The  evils,  however,  that  might  in  this  department 
be  feared  in  England  from  the  omnipotence  of  the 
House  of  Commons  have  been  greatly  mitigated  by  two 
facts.  The  one  is,  that  a  very  large  proportion  of  the 
taxes  of  the  country  are  permanent  taxes,  and  are, 
therefore,  not  the  subjects  of  annual  debate.  The 
other  is  the  rule  of  the  House  of  Commons,  which  I 
have  mentioned  in  a  former  chapter,  that  no  petition, 
and  no  motion  for  a  grant  or  charge  upon  the  public 
revenue,  can  be  received  unless  it  is  recommended  by 
the  ministers  of  the  Crown.  Though  this  rule,  giving 
the  responsible  ministers  the  sole  right  of  proposing 
taxation,  rests  upon  no  law,  but  simply  on  a  standing 
order  of  1706,  it  is  no  exaggeration  to  say  that  it  is  one 
of  the  most  valuable  parts  of  the  British  Constitution. 
In  the  great  changes  that  have  taken  place  in  the  dis- 
position and  balance  of  powers,  many  of  the  old  con- 
stitutional checks  have  become  obsolete,  inoperative, 
or  useless  ;  but  the  whole  tendency  of  modern  politics 
has  only  increased  the  importance  of  the  provision 
which  places  the  initiation  in  matters  of  finance  exclu- 
sively in  Government  hands.  In  the  present  state  of 
Parliaments,  and  with  the  motives  that  at  present 
govern  English  public  life,  it  is  difficult  to  exaggerate 
either  the  corruption  or  the  extravagance  that  might 
arise  if  every  member  were  at  liberty  to  ingratiate  him- 
self with  particular  classes  of  interests  by  proposing 
money  grants  in  their  favour. 

The  exclusion,  however,  of  the  House  of  Lords  from 
every  form  of  financial  control  naturally  deprived  it  of 
its  chief  power  in  the  State ;  and  it  is  still  further 


CH.  IV.  JUDICIAL  FUNCTIONS  417 

weakened  by  the  fact  that  the  creation  and  overthrow 
of  ministries  rest  entirely  with  the  other  House.  In 
the  theory  of  the  Constitution,  the  sovereign  chooses 
the  head  of  the  Government,  but,  except  in  the  very 
rare  cases  of  nearly  balanced  claims,  the  sovereign  has 
no  choice.  The  statesman  whom  the  dominant  party 
in  the  House  of  Commons  follow  as  their  leader  is  irre- 
sistibly designated,  and,  if  he  is  overthrown,  it  must 
be  by  the  vote  of  the  House  of  Commons.  Since  the  re- 
signation of  Lord  Grey  in  May,  1832,  no  ministry  has 
resigned  in  consequence  of  a  hostile  vote  of  the  Lords. 
Some  other  changes  may  be  noticed  in  the  position 
of  the  House.  In  addition  to  its  legislative  functions, 
it  is  the  supreme  law  court  of  the  country,  and  this 
very  important  privilege  has  been  the  subject  of  extraor- 
dinary abuses.  It  is  not  here  necessary  to  enter  at  any 
length  into  the  curious  and  intricate  history  of  this 
power.  It  seems  to  have  grown  out  of  the  right  the 
peers  once  possessed,  as  counsellors  of  the  King,  to  re- 
ceive petitions  for  the  redress  of  all  abuses  ;  but  it  was 
fully  organised  in  successive  stages,  and  in  spite  of 
much  opposition  from  the  House  of  Commons,  in  the 
sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries.  The  right  of 
hearing  judicial  appeals  extended  to  all  the  peers,  even 
to  those  who  were  perfectly  unversed  in  matters  of  law  ; 
and  for  considerable  periods  after  the  Revolution,  and 
especially  in  the  reigns  of  George  II.  and  George  III., 
the  Chancellor  sat  alone  in  the  House  of  Lords,  some- 
times to  hear  appeals  from  himself,  though  two  lay 
peers  had  to  be  formally  present  in  order  to  make 
the  requisite  quorum.  Somers,  Hardwicke,  Thurlow, 
Mansfield,  and  Eldon  have  all  heard  appeals  in  this 
fashion.^    After  this  time  lawyers  multiplied  in  the 


May's  Const.  Hist.  i.  247. 

27 


418  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  iv. 

House  of  Lords,  and  the  appellate  jurisdiction  was 
placed  by  custom  exclusively  in  their  hands ;  though 
in  the  case  of  O'Connell,  when  party  passions  were 
strongly  aroused,  there  was  for  a  short  time  some  dan- 
ger that  the  lay  lords  would  insist  on  their  right  of 
intervening.  The  efficiency  of  the  highest  Court  was 
entirely  a  matter  of  chance.  The  Chancellor  was 
usually  a  good  lawyer,  but  it  has  sometimes  happened 
that  a  considerable  portion  of  the  remainder  of  the  tri- 
bunal consisted  of  lawyers  who,  though  they  had  been 
in  their  day  very  eminent,  were  now  suffering  from  all 
the  debility  of  extreme  old  age,  and  appeals  were  no- 
toriously from  the  more  competent  tribunal  to  the  less 
competent  one. 

It  seems  strange  that  this  state  of  things  should 
have  been  so  long  tolerated  ;  but,  in  truth,  the  English 
people,  though  they  have  always  been  extremely  tena- 
cious of  their  right  of  making  their  own  laws,  have 
usually  been  singularly  patient  of  abuses  in  administer- 
ing them.  They  bore  during  long  generations  ruinous 
delays  of  justice  which  were  elaborately  calculated  to 
prolong  litigation  through  periods  often  exceeding  the 
natural  duration  of  a  lifetime ;  enormous  multiplica- 
tions of  costly  and  useless  archaic  forms,  intended  main- 
ly to  swell  the  gains  of  one  grasping  profession.  They 
have  suffered  judges  whose  faculties  were  notoriously 
dimmed  by  the  infirmities  of  extreme  old  age  to  preside 
over  trials  on  which  lives,  fortunes,  and  reputations 
depended  ;  and  even  now  this  profession,  which,  beyond 
almost  any  other,  requires  the  full  clearness,  concen- 
tration, and  energy  of  a  trained  intellect,  is  exempt 
from  the  age  limit  which  is  so  severely  imposed  on  other 
classes  of  Civil  Servants.  It  is  quite  in  accordance  with 
this  spirit  that  they  should  have  long  endured,  with 
scarcely  a  murmur,  such  an  appellate  jurisdiction  as  I 


OH.  IV.  LIFE  PEERAGES  419 

have  described.  English  writers  often  dwell,  with  just 
pride,  on  the  contrast  between  the  political  freedom  en- 
joyed in  Great  Britain  and  the  political  servitude  that 
existed  in  France  in  the  eighteenth  century.  If  they 
compared,  in  their  judicial  aspects,  the  House  of  Lords 
of  that  period  with  the  Parliament  of  Paris,  the  compa- 
rison would  be  much  less  flattering  to  the  national  pride. 

The  extremely  unsatisfactory  condition  of  the  House 
of  Lords,  considered  as  the  supreme  tribunal  of  the 
country,  was  acutely  felt  in  the  present  century,  and 
the  opinion  grew  in  ministerial  circles  that  the  best  way 
of  strengthening  it  was  by  introducing  into  the  House 
a  certain  number  of  lawyers  as  life  peers.  The  Cabinet 
of  Lord  Liverpool  at  one  time  resolved  upon  this  step, 
but  Lord  Liverpool  himself  changed  his  mind,  and  it 
was  abandoned.  In  1851,  Lord  John  Russell  offered  a 
life  peerage  to  an  eminent  judge,  but  it  was  declined  ;^ 
but  in  1856  the  Government  of  Lord  Palmerston  took 
the  startling  step  of  creating  by  royal  prerogative  Baron 
Parke  a  life  peer,  under  the  title  of  Lord  Wensleydale. 
The  fact  that  he  might  just  as  well  have  been  made  an 
hereditary  peer,  as  he  was  considerably  past  middle  life, 
and  had  no  living  sQn,  gave  an  unmistakable  signifi- 
cance to  the  creation. 

As  is  well  known,  the  attempt  was  successfully  re- 
sisted by  the  House  of  Lords.  The  opposition  was  led 
with  masterly  ability  by  Lord  Lyndhurst,  and,  with  the 
exception  of  a  not  very  powerful  Chancellor,  it  was  sup- 
ported by  all  the  law  lords  in  the  House.  It  was  ac- 
knowledged, indeed,  that  such  peerages  had  been  made 
in  remote  periods  of  English  history,  and  that  Coke, 
and  Blackstone  following  Coke,  had  asserted  their  le- 


'  See  a  speech  of  Lord  Granville  in  the  debate  on  Lord  Wens- 
leydale's  peerage,  February  7,  1856. 


420  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  oh.  iv. 

gality  ;  but  the  supporters  of  the  measure  were  com- 
pelled to  admit  that  for  the  space  of  400  years  no 
commoner  had  been  introduced  into  the  House  of 
Lords  by  such  a  patent  as  that  of  Lord  AVensleydale. 
There  had,  it  is  true,  been  a  few  peerages  for  life  con- 
ferred upon  women.  It  was  a  dignity  which  seems 
to  have  been  specially  selected  for  the  mistress  of  the 
King,  and  Charles  11. ,  James  II.,  George  L,  and 
George  11. ,  had  in  this  way  raised  their  mistresses  to 
the  peerage.  Since  the  creation  of  the  Countess  of 
Yarmouth  by  George  II.,  however,  there  had  been  no 
peerage  of  this  kind  ;  and  a  life  peerage  conferred  on 
a  woman  introduced  no  one  into  the  House  of  Lords. 
The  only  other  attempt  to  establish  a  modern  prece- 
dent was  derived  from  the  fact  that  the  sovereign  pos- 
sessed, and  exercised,  the  power  of  conferring  peerages 
on  childless  men,  with  remainders  to  relations  to  whom 
they  could  not,  without  special  permission,  have  de- 
scended. It  was  obvious,  however,  that  this  formed 
no  real  precedent,  for  it  was  Nature,  and  not  patent, 
that  prevented  these  peers  from  transmitting  their  peer- 
ages in  the  usual  way. 

The  legal  maxim.  Nullum  tempus  occurrit  regi,  was 
quoted  in  defence  of  life  peerages  ;  but  in  spite  of  it 
the  lawyers  contended,  as  it  seems  to  me  with  good  rea- 
son, that  a  prerogative  which  had  been  for  400  years 
unexercised,  and  which  was  exercised  only  at  a  time 
when  the  position  of  the  sovereign  and  the  aristocracy 
in  the  Constitution  was  utterly  different  from  what  it 
now  is — at  a  time  when  it  was  not  unusual  to  sum- 
mon to  the  House  of  Lords  commoners  who  were  mar- 
ried to  peeresses  to  represent  their  wives — at  a  time 
when  the  House  of  Lords  was  able,  of  its  own  authority, 
to  select  a  Eegent  for  the  kingdom,  ought  not  to  be 
revived  by  a  mere  act  of  power. 


ca.  IV.  LIFE  PEERAGES  421 

No  reasonable  man,  indeed,  will  now  regard  the  di- 
rect influence  of  the  sovereign  as  a  danger  to  English 
liberty  ;  but  revivals  of  long-dormant  royal  preroga- 
tives should  be  carefully  watched,  for  they  are  certain 
to  pass  into  the  hands  of  the  Cabinet  ministers.  It 
was  a  clear  and  well-established  prerogative  of  the 
Crown  to  remodel  the  representation  by  summoning 
unrepresented  places  to  send  members  to  the  House  of 
Commons,  or  by  discontinuing  to  summon  places  which 
had  hitherto  been  represented.  This  prerogative  had 
been  exercised  at  a  much  later  period  than  that  on 
which  the  precedents  for  Lord  Wensleydale's  creation 
were  based,  and  it  had  even  been  heard  of  in  our  own 
century.  In  the  course  of  the  debates  on  the  Reform 
Bill  of  1833,  an  Irish  Solicitor-General  had  suggested 
that  the  obstruction  of  the  House  of  Lords  might  be  over- 
come by  simply  using  the  royal  prerogative  of  creating 
or  disenfranchising  constituencies  in  accordance  with 
the  provisions  of  the  Bill ;  and  O'Connell  contended 
that  it  was  in  the  full  legal  power  of  the  sovereign  to 
annul  the  Irish  Union,  without  the  intervention  of 
either  Lords  or  Commons,  by  summoning  Irish  constitu- 
encies to  send  their  representatives  to  Dublin.  No  one 
can  for  a  moment  imagine  that  a  modern  House  of 
Commons  would  tolerate  such  an  exercise  of  the  pre- 
rogative, however  well  supported  by  historical  and  legal 
authority ;  nor  would  any  Government  venture  to  at- 
tempt it.  The  prerogative  of  creating  life  peers  had 
not  been  resorted  to  by  the  ministers  who  took  the 
strongest  measures  to  overcome  the  resistance  or  to  in- 
crease the  numbers  of  the  Upper  House.  Harley  had 
not  thought  of  it  when  he  made  twelve  peers  to  carry 
the  Peace  of  Utrecht ;  or  Pitt  when,  by  lavish  creations, 
he  carried  the  Irish  Union  ;  or  Grey  when  he  obtained 
the  King's  assent  to  the  creation  of  a  sufficient  number 


422  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  iv. 

of  peers  to  carry  the  Reform  Bill  of  1832.  On  the 
whole,  therefore,  the  House  of  Lords  seems  to  me  to 
have  been  thoroughly  justified  in  maintaining  that  the 
sovereign  could  not,  by  a  patent  of  life  peerage,  in- 
troduce new  members  into  the  House  of  Lords.  An 
other  patent  was  accordingly  made  out,  and  Lord  Wens- 
leydale  entered  the  House  on  the  same  terms  as  his 
brother-peers. 

The  conduct  of  the  House  of  Lords  on  this  occasion 
has  been  much  blamed  by  some  considerable  authorities. 
Freeman  has  denounced  it  with  extreme  violence,  as  a 
departure  from  the  precedents  of  early  English  history,' 
and  Bagehot,  with  much  more  reason,  has  lamented 
that  the  House  neglected  a  great  opportunity  of  invi- 
gorating its  constitution  by  making  possible  a  gradual 
infusion  of  life  peers.^  Powerful,  however,  as  are  the 
arguments  in  favour  of  life  peerages,  I  do  not  think 
that  they  ought  to  have  been  created  by  a  simple 
revival  of  a  long-dormant  prerogative,  without  statu- 
tory authority  or  limitation.  An  attempt  was  made  by 
Lord  John  Russell,  in  1869,  to  introduce  life  peers  un- 
der the  authority  of  an  Act  of  Parliament,  limiting  the 
number  to  twenty-eight,  and  providing  that  not  more 
than  four  should  be  made  in  one  year.  It  was  defeated 
on  its  third  reading  ;  and  a  very  similar  but  rather 
more  extensive  measure,  which  was  introduced  by  Lord 
Salisbury  in  1888,  was  abandoned  on  account  of  the 
hostility  of  Mr.  Gladstone. 

The  only  object  of  the  Government  at  the  time  of  the 
Wensleydale  peerage  seems  to  have  been  to  strengthen 
the  appellate  jurisdiction,  by  bringing  into  the  House 
competent    lawyers    whose    fortunes    were,    perhaps, 


>  Freeman's    Historical    Us-  '  On  the  Constitution, 

says^  4th  series,  pp.  473-75. 


CH.  IV.  THE  APPELLATE  JURISDICTION  423 

deemed  inadequate  for  an  hereditary  peerage,  and  who 
would  not  add  to  the  very  considerable  number  of  no- 
ble houses  with  a  legal  origin.  The  state  of  the  appel- 
late jurisdiction  continued  for  several  years  to  be  a 
matter  of  constant  complaint,  and  it  gave  rise  to  much 
discussion,  and  to  some  abortive  measures.  At  length, 
in  1873,  Lord  Selborne,  as  the  Chancellor  of  a  Liberal 
Government,  succeeded  in  carrying  a  Bill  transferring 
all  English  appeals  from  the  House  of  Lords  to  a  new 
tribunal.  Irish  and  Scotch  appeals  were  left  to  be 
dealt  with  in  a  separate  Bill  in  the  ensuing  year,  and 
the  measure  that  was  actually  carried  was  only  to  come 
into  force  in  the  November  of  1874.  Before  that  date 
an  election  and  a  change  of  Government  took  place, 
and  it  devolved  upon  Lord  Cairns,  as  the  Conservative 
Chancellor,  to  carry  out  the  new  policy. 

He  had  in  the  preceding  year  supported,  though  not 
without  some  reluctance,  the  measure  of  Lord  Sel- 
borne, and  his  first  intention  on  arriving  at  power  was 
to  complete  it  on  the  same  lines,  by  transferring  Scotch 
and  Irish  appeals  to  the  new  tribunal.  It  soon,  how- 
ever, appeared  that  a  strong  hostile  feeling  had  grown 
up  in  the  country.  In  England,  it  was  found  to  be  an 
unpopular  thing  to  deprive  the  House  of  Lords  of  its 
ancient  jurisdiction  ;  while  Scotland  and  Ireland  pro- 
tested against  the  transfer  of  their  appeals  to  any  less 
dignified  body  than  a  branch  of  the  Imperial  Legis- 
lature. It  was  observed  that  a  special  clause  of  the 
Scotch  Act  of  Union  had  provided  that  there  should 
be  no  right  of  appeal  from  a  Scotch  to  an  English 
court.  On  the  other  hand,  it  was  generally  felt  that 
it  would  be  inexpedient  to  have  different  courts  of 
appeal  for  the  different  parts  of  the  British  Isles.  In 
the  face  of  this  strong  demonstration  of  opinion  Lord 
Cairns  changed  his  policy.     The   operation  of  Lord 


424  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  iv. 

Selborne's  Bill  was  for  a  short  time  postponed,  and  the 
Government  resolved  to  revert  in  form,  though  not  in 
substance,  to  the  old  system.  It  was  enacted  that  all 
appeals  from  Great  Britain  and  Ireland  should  be  heard 
in  the  House  of  Lords,  by  a  court  consisting  of  those 
members  of  the  House  who  had  held  high  Judicial 
offices  in  the  State,  with  the  addition  of  two,  and 
ultimately  of  four,  eminent  lawyers,  who  were  to  be 
life  peers,  created  under  the  Statute,  and  receiving 
large  salaries.  The  presence  of  three  members  was 
made  necessary  to  form  a  court.  The  life  peers  might 
speak  and  vote  on  all  questions  like  other  peers,  as 
long  as  they  continued  to  exercise  their  judicial  func- 
tions ;  but  if  they  resigned  these  they  lost  their  seats, 
though  they  retained  their  titles.  It  was  also  provided 
that  this  judicial  body  might  continue  its  sittings  when 
Parliament  was  prorogued. 

It  is,  I  think,  no  paradox  to  say  that,  of  all  the  many 
Eeform  Bills  which  have  been  carried  in  our  time,  this 
reform  of  the  House  of  Lords  has  been  the  most  suc- 
cessful. It  had  a  limited  and  defined  object,  and  it 
perfectly  accomplished  it,  without  producing  any 
countervailing  evil.  From  the  time  of  Lord  Cairns's 
law,  the  appellate  jurisdiction  of  the  House  of  Lords 
has  carried  with  it  all  the  weight  that  should  attach  to 
the  supreme  tribunal  of  a  nation,  and  one,  at  least,  of 
the  old  reproaches  of  the  House  has  been  wiped  away. 

A  modification  of  this  law,  which  has  considerable 
constitutional  importance,  was  proposed  and  carried  in 
1887,  by  a  Conservative  Government.  It  provided  that 
the  law  peers,  if  they  resigned  their  judicial  offices  and 
salaries,  should  still  retain  their  seats  in  the  House,  and 
be  allowed  to  vote  and  speak  like  other  peers.  In  this 
way,  for  the  first  time  in  modern  days,  life  peers  with- 
out official  positions  might  sit  in  the  House  of  Lords. 


CH.  rv.  MODERN  CREATIONS  425 

Another  slight  change  in  the  constitution  of  the  House 
of  Lords  had  been  made  in  1871,  by  an  Act  which  de- 
prived bankrupt  peers  of  the  right  of  sitting  and  voting. 

Other  changes  far  less  favourable  to  it  have  taken 
place.  In  no  previous  period  of  English  history  have 
creations  in  the  peerage  been  so  numerous  as  in  the 
later  portion  of  the  present  reign.  A  long  succes- 
sion of  short  ministries  has  contributed  to  increase  the 
number,  each  ministry  being  desirous  of  marking  its 
term  of  office  by  some  creations,  and  the  destruction, 
through  the  competitive  system,  of  most  of  the  old 
methods  of  rewarding  politicians  has  had  the  same 
effect.  Much,  too,  is  due  to  a  certain  vulgarisation  or 
cheapening  of  honours  that  has  undoubtedly  character- 
ised the  second  half  of  the  present  century  ;  and  to  the 
increased  pressure  of  newly  made  wealth  seeking  social 
position. 

An  examination  of  these  creations  furnishes  some 
rather  curious  results.  If  we  take  as  our  starting- 
point  the  accession  of  Lord  Grey  to  power  in  the 
November  of  1830,  when  the  movement  towards  par- 
liamentary reform  acquired  a  decisive  strength,  we 
shall  find  that  from  that  period  till  the  death  of 
Lord  Palmerston,  in  October  1865,  creations  were  com- 
paratively few.  Sir  Robert  Peel  especially  had  a  strong 
sense  of  the  danger  of  lowering  the  dignity  of  the  peer- 
age, and  in  his  two  ministries  only  twelve  peers  were 
created.  In  the  whole  of  this  period  of  thirty-five 
years,  148  hereditary  peers  were  created  ;  123  of  them 
by  Liberal,  and  twenty-five  by  ConservatiA^e,  ministries. 
During  this  space  of  time  the  Liberal  party  were  in 
power  for  rather  more  than  twenty-six  years.  ^ 


»  A  table  of  the  additions  to  will  be  found  in  the  ConstUw 
the  hereditary  peerage  made  du-  tional  Year-Book  for  1893,  p 
ring  each  ministry  since   1830      63. 


426  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  iv 

If  we  now  pass  to  the  twenty-seven  years  from  the  be- 
ginning of  1866  to  the  end  of  1892,  we  find  no  less  than 
179  hereditary  peerages  created — eighty-five  of  them 
by  Liberal,  and  ninety-four  by  Conservative,  ministers. 
As  the  Liberals  during  this  period  were  in  power 
for  rather  more  than  eleven,  and  the  Conservatives 
for  rather  more  than  fifteen,  years,  the  proportion  of 
peerages  created  by  the  two  parties  was  not  very  differ- 
ent. On  both  sides  the  increased  profusion  of  creations 
is  very  great,  and  it  is  remarkable  that,  even  in  the 
earlier  period  which  I  have  reviewed,  the  number  of 
creations  was  considered  by  good  judges  both  extrava- 
gant and  dangerous.^ 

It  will  hardly,  I  think,  be  contended  that  modern 
creations  have  added  greatly  to  the  weight  and  lustre 
of  the  peerage.  There  have,  no  doubt,  been  many  ex- 
ceptions. In  the  field  of  politics  a  few  very  eminent 
men  have  entered  the  Upper  House  while  retaining  all 
their  mental,  though  not  all  their  physical,  powers. 
Others,  of  respectable,  or  even  more  than  respectable, 
ability,  have  gone  into  it  because  they  have  passed 
under  a  cloud,  because  they  have  lost  an  election,  or 
been  unsuccessful  in  an  office,  or  come  into  collision 
or  rivalry  with  a  colleague,  or  because  a  prime  minister 
wished  to  moderate  or  to  muzzle  them,  or  because  he 
desired  to  make   room  in  his   Cabinet  for  younger. 


'  Thus,  McCulloch,  writing  in  single  exception  of  Sir  Robert 

1846,  says :    '  There  can  be  no  Peel,    have    lavished    peerages 

doubt  that   the   prerogative   of  with  a  profusion  that  has  been 

creating  peers  has  been  far  too  injurious   alike   to    the   dignity 

liberally  exercised,  not  to   say  and  legitimate  influence  of  the 

abused,    since   the   Revolution,  peers  and  to  the  independence 

and  more  especially  since  the  of  the  Commons  (McCulloch's 

accession  of  George  III.     Mr.  Account  of  the  British  Empire  : 

Pitt,  and  the  ministers  by  whom  '  House  of  Lords '). 
he  has  been  followed,  with  the 


CH.  IV.  MODERX  CREATIONS  4SX7 

stronger,  or  more  popular  men.  A  few  recruits,  who 
would  have  done  honour  to  any  assembly,  have  been 
drawn  from  diplomacy,  from  the  army  and  navy,  from 
the  permanent  offices,  or  from  those  great  fields  of 
Indian  administration  in  which  so  much  of  the  strong- 
est character  and  most  masculine  intellect  of  our  gene- 
ration is  formed.  Kinds  of  eminence  that  lie  outside 
the  circle  of  Government  employment  and  the  legal 
profession  have  been  slightly  touched.  A  great  histo- 
rian, who  had  been  an  active  Whig  politician,  and  who 
supported  his  party  powerfully  both  by  his  voice  and 
his  pen,  and  a  great  novelist  who  had  been  for  many 
years  a  conspicuous  Tory  member  of  Parliament,  were 
raised  to  the  lowest  grade  in  the  peerage  ;  and  the  same 
dignity  has  been,  more  recently,  conferred  on  one 
writer,  who  (if  we  except  his  almost  honorary  Govern- 
ment post  of  Laureate)  had  no  special  claim  beyond 
the  fact  that,  for  at  least  forty  years,  he  was  universally 
recognised  as  one  of  the  very  greatest  of  living  English- 
men, the  foremost  poet  of  his  own  country,  and,  with 
perhaps  one  exception,  the  foremost  poet  then  living 
in  the  world.  But  the  bulk  of  the  accessions  to  the 
peerage  come  from  other  quarters!  Great  wealth,  even 
though  it  be  accompanied  by  no  kind  of  real  distinc- 
tion, especially  if  it  be  united  with  a  steady  vote  in  the 
House  of  Commons,  has  been  the  strongest  claim  ;  and, 
next  to  wealth,  great  connections.  Probably  a  large 
majority  of  those  who  have  of  late  years  risen  to  the 
peerage  are  men  whose  names  conveyed  no  idea  of  any 
kind  to  the  great  body  of  the  English  people. 

It  can  scarcely  be  questioned  that  an  infusion  into 
the  aristocracy  of  a  certain  number  of  rich  merchant- 
princes  is  an  advantage.  They  represent  a  distinct 
and  important  element  in  English  life,  and  carry  with 
them  great  influence  and  capacity.     It  should  not  be 


428  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  iv. 

forgotten  that  the  most  enduring  aristocratic  Govern- 
ment that  the  modern  world  has  known  was  that  of 
Venice,  the  work  of  a  landless  and  mercantile  aristo- 
cracy. It  is  as  little  doubtful  that  the  immense  place 
given  to  undistinguished  wealth  in  the  modern  peerage 
has  contributed  to  lower  its  character.  The  existence 
of  a  peerage  has  been  always  defended,  among  other 
reasons,  on  the  ground  that  it  furnishes  a  reward  for 
great  achievements ;  and  British  Governments  under- 
take, though  in  a  fitful  and  casual  way,  to  distribute 
State  honours  for  many  kinds  of  eminence.  Perhaps 
it  would  be  better  if  they  did  not  do  so ;  but,  if  they 
attempt  to  measure  kinds  of  eminence  that  are  not 
political,  they  should,  at  least,  do  so  in  a  way  that 
bears  some  relation  to  the  true  value  of  things.  An 
Upper  House  depends  much  more  than  an  elective  As- 
sembly on  the  personal  weight  and  brilliancy  of  its 
members,  and  perhaps  the  only  kind  of  Upper  House 
that  is  likely  in  the  long  run  to  form  some  real 
counterpoise  to  a  democratic  Assembly  is  one  which  in- 
cludes a  large  proportion  of  a  nation's  greatest  men, 
representing  supreme  and  acknowledged  achievement 
in  many  fields. 

The  House  of  Lords  represents  much,  but  it  cer- 
tainly does  not  represent  this.  If  we  ask  what  England 
in  the  present  century  has  contributed  of  most  value 
to  the  progress  of  the  world,  competent  Judges  would 
probably  give  a  foremost  place  to  physical  science.  In 
no  other  period  of  the  world's  history  have  the  disco- 
veries in  these  fields  been  so  numerous,  so  majestic,  or 
so  fruitful.  In  no  other  period  has  so  large  a  propor- 
tion of  the  highest  intellect  taken  this  direction.  In 
no  other  department  have  English  achievements,  by  the 
acknowledgment  of  the  whole  scientific  world,  been  so 
splendid.     There  is,  I  believe,  only  a  single  very  recent 


CH.  IV.  REWARDS  OP  GENIUS  429 

example  of  purely  scientific  eminence  being  recognised 
by  a  peerage. 

Closely  akin  to  science,  and  perhaps  even  more  im- 
portant among  the  elements  of  national  well-being,  are 
the  great  healing  professions.  Here,  too,  our  century 
ranks  among  the  most  illustrious  in  the  history  of  the 
world.  It  has  seen  the  discovery  of  anaesthetics,  which 
is  one  of  the  greatest  boons  that  have  ever  been  be- 
stowed upon  suffering  humanity.  It  has  produced  the 
germ  theory  of  disease  ;  the  antiseptic  treatment  in 
surgery  ;  a  method  of  removing  ovarian  tumours  which 
has  successfully  combated  one  of  the  most  terrible  and 
most  deadly  of  diseases ;  a  method  of  brain  surgery 
which  has  already  achieved  much,  and  which  promises 
inestimable  progress  in  the  future.  It  has  vastly  ex- 
tended our  knowledge  of  disease  by  the  invention  of 
the  stethoscope,  the  clinical  thermometer,  the  laryngo- 
scope, the  ophthalmoscope,  and  in  many  other  ways 
which  it  is  not  here  necessary  to  enumerate.  England 
may  justly  claim  a  foremost  place  in  this  noble  work,* 
and  many  of  her  finest  intellects  have  been  enlisted  in 
its  service.  The  title  conferred  on  Lord  Lister  in  1897 
is  the  first  instance  in  which  even  the  most  splendid 
achievement  in  this  field  has  been  recognised  by  a  peer- 
age. Another  and  lower  dignity  is  thQ  stamp  of  hon- 
our which  the  State  accords  to  the  very  highest  emi- 
nence in  medicine  and  surgery — as  if  to  show  in  the 
clearest  light  how  inferior  in  its  eyes  are  the  professions 
which  do  most  to  mitigate  the  great  sum  of  human 
agony,  to  the  professions  which  talk  and  quarrel  and  kill. 

Art  forms  another  important  element  in  the  fuU 
development  of  national  life.     In  this  field,  it  is  true, 

>  An  excellent  sketch  of  Eng-  Dr.  Brudenell  Carter  on  Medi- 
lish  achievements  in  this  field  cine  and  Surgery  in  Ward's 
will  be  found  in  the  essay  by      Reign  of  Queen  Victoria. 


430  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ce.  n- 

England  cannot  claim  any  place  at  all  comparable  to 
that  which  she  has  won  in  science,  or  in  the  healing 
professions  ;  but  if  measured,  not  by  a  doubtful  com- 
parison of  three  or  four  of  the  greatest  names,  but  by 
the  number  of  men  of  undoubted  genius  who  have  ap- 
peared in  a  single  generation,  English  art  has  never,  I 
believe,  ranked  so  high  as  at  present,  and  never  com- 
pared so  favourably  with  the  art  of  other  nations.  In 
1896,  for  the  first  time,  a  peerage  was  conferred  on  an 
English  artist.  The  doors  of  the  Upper  House  were 
never  opened  to  the  men  who,  in  this  century,  have  ren- 
dered the  greatest  services  to  the  State  and  to  humanity 
— to  Simpson,  whose  discovery  of  chloroform  has  pre- 
vented an  amount  of  human  suffering  which  it  would 
need  the  imagination  of  a  Dante  to  realise ;  to  Stephen- 
son, whose  engineering  genius  has  done  more  than  that 
of  any  other  man  to  revolutionise  the  whole  economical 
and  industrial  condition  of  England  ;  to  Chadwick,  the 
father  of  that  great  movement  of  sanitary  reform  which 
has  already  saved  more  human  lives  than  any,  except, 
perhaps,  the  very  greatest,  conquerors  have  destroyed  ; 
to  Darwin,  who  has  transformed  our  conceptions  of  the 
universe  and  whose  influence-  is  felt  to  the  fartliest 
frontiers  of  speculative  thought.  For  their  own  sakes 
it  is  not  to  be  regretted  that  the  claims  of  such  men 
were  not  thrown  into  humiliating  competition  with 
those  of  the  acute  lawyers  and  politicians,  the  great 
country  gentlemen  and  the  opulent  brewers,  who  throng 
the  approaches  to  the  Upper  House  ;  but  if  such  a  House 
is  to  continue,  and,  in  a  democratic  age,  is  to  retain  its 
weight  and  influence  in  the  State,  it  is  not  likely  that 
elements  of  this  kind  can  for  ever  be  neglected. 

The  position  of  an  hereditary  Chamber  in  a  demo- 
cratic age  is  a  problem  of  much  difficulty  and  obscurity. 
I  have  traced  in  a  former  chapter  the  force  and  the 


CH.  IV.  CONSERVATISM  OP  THE  PEERAGE  431 

danger  of  the  current  which  is  making  all  parts  of  the 
political  machinery  of  a  piece,  breaking  down  all  the 
inequalities,  diversities  of  tendency,  counterbalancing 
and  restraining  influences,  on  which  the  true  liberty 
and  the  lasting  security  of  nations  so  largely  depends. 
Such  a  movement  is  naturally  inimical  to  the  heredi- 
tary principle  in  legislation,  and  the  danger  has  been  in- 
tensified by  the  enormous  increase  during  the  last  few 
years  in  the  political  difference  between  the  House  of 
Lords  and  one  of  the  great  parties  in  the  State.  This 
fact  is  especially  significant  as  about  two-thirds  of  the 
numerous  creations  that  have  been  made  in  the  present 
reign  have  been  made  by  Liberal  Governments,  while 
an  appreciable  number  of  the  earlier  peerages  consist  of 
members  of  those  great  Whig  houses  which  have  been 
the  oldest  and  steadiest  supporters  of  civil  and  religious 
liberty.  It  is  true,  as  I  have  said,  that  an  Upper  House 
is  naturally  a  moderating,  restraining,  and  retarding 
body,  rather  than  an  impelling  one ;  that  the  bias  of 
an  hereditary  class  is  naturally  on  the  side  of  habit  and 
tradition  ;  and  that  a  very  opulent  class  is  inevitably 
conservative  in  questions  relating  to  property.  But 
these  considerations  are  far  from  accounting  for  the  full 
measure  of  the  change  that  has  taken  place.  Till  the 
death  of  Lord  Palmerston  there  was  no  great  or  steady 
party  preponderance  in  the  House  of  Lords.  It  grew 
up  mainly  under  the  policy  of  Mr.  Gladstone  ;  but  it 
only  acquired  its  overwhelming  magnitude  when  that 
statesman  announced  his  determination  to  place  the 
government  of  Ireland  in  the  hands  of  the  party  which 
he  had  shortly  before  described  as  aiming  at  public 
plunder  and  the  dismemberment  of  the  Empire.  The 
great  body  of  the  Liberal  peers  refused  to  follow  him, 
and  although  he  had  himself,  in  his  different  minis- 
tries, created  about  eighty  peerages,  his  followers  in  the 


432  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  IV. 

House  of  Lords  soon  dwindled  into  little  more  than  a 
small  number. of  habitual  office-holders.' 

The  disproportion  was  very  great ;  but  it  must  be 
acknowledged  that  it  would  have  been  impossible 
to  form,  by  any  fair  means,  an  Upper  Chamber  consist- 
ing of  men  of  large  property  and  considerable  and  in- 
dependent positions,  in  which  opinions  hostile  to  Irish 
Home  Eule  did  not  greatly  preponderate.  It  must  also 
be  added,  that  the  elections  of  1886  and  1895  have 
shown  beyond  all  possibility  of  doubt  that,  on  the  Home 
Rule  question,  the  House  of  Lords  represented  the  true 
sentiments  of  the  democracy  of  the  country. 

And  certainly  the  very  remarkable  parliamentary 
history  of  England  from  1892  to  1895  does  not  weaken 
the  conclusion.  It  appears  that,  under  our  present 
conditions,  some  desire  for  a  change  of  representation 
and  Government  at  every  election  acts  with  an  almost 
tidal  regularity  on  the  constituencies,  though  the 
strength  or  weakness"  of  the  revulsion  depends  upon  the 
policy  of  the  rival  parties.  In  the  election  of  1892, 
and  after  a  Conservative  Government  which  had  lasted 
for  more  than  six  years,  the  Home  Eule  party  obtained 
a  small  and  precarious  majority  of  forty  votes.  In 
England,  and  especially  in  the  great  towns  of  England, 
it  was  utterly  defeated  ;  in  Great  Britain  as  a  whole 
it  was  in  a  minority  ;  but  the  skilful  organisation  and 
large  over-representation  of  the  Irish  peasantry,  and 
the  strength  of  the  Church  disestablishment  party  in 
Wales,  turned  the  balance,  and  a  Government  was 
formed  depending  for  its  support  on  a  small  majority, 
consisting  of  a  number  of  discordant  factions.     The 


'  In  his  speech  on  the  reform  Rule  peers  at  about  thirty,  or 

of  the  House  of  Lords,  March  about  5  per  cent,  of  the  House 

19,   1888,  Lord   Rosebery   esti-  of  Lords, 
mated  the  number  of  the  Home 


CH.  IV.  THE  PARLIAMENT  OP  1892-1895  433 

remarkable  House  of  Commons  that  sat  in  those  years 
passed  a  Bill  placing  the  government  of  Ireland  in  the 
hands  of  a  separate  Parliament,  at  the  same  time  leav- 
ing a  powerful  contingent  of  eighty  Irish  members  in 
the  Parliament  at  Westminster  ;  it  passed  a  vote  in  fa- 
vour of  the  establishment  of  a  separate  Parliament  in 
Scotland  ;  it  passed  another  vote  in  favour  of  breaking 
up  the  British  Isles  into  a  federation,  with  a  number 
of  distinct  legislatures.  It  carried  by  a  small  majority, 
though  it  afterwards  rescinded,  an  amendment  to  the 
Address,  in  March  1894,  praying  her  Majesty  '  that  the 
power  now  enjoyed  by  persons  not  elected  to  Parliament 
by  the  possessors  of  the  parliamentary  franchise  to  pre- 
vent Bills  being  submitted  to  your  Majesty  for  your 
Eoyal  approval  shall  cease,'  and  expressing  a  hope  that 
"  if  it  be  necessary  your  Majesty  will,  with  and  by  the 
advice  of  your  responsible  ministers,  use  the  powers 
vested  in  your  Majesty  to  secure  the  passing  of  this 
much-needed  reform/ 

The  members  of  the  Government  clearly  saw  that  it 
was  impossible  to  carry  Home  Rule  by  a  direct  appeal 
to  the  nation.  When  the  Home  Rule  Bill,  which  was 
a  capital  portion  of  their  policy,  was  rejected  by  an 
overwhelming  majority  in  the  Lords,  they  did  not  ven- 
ture to  dissolve  upon  the  question,  and  submit  it  to 
the  adjudication  of  the  constituencies.  They  hoped  to 
secure  a  Home  Rule  majority  on  other  grounds,  by 
creating  and  stimulating  an  agitation  against  the  House 
of  Lords.  The  last  speech  delivered  in  Parliament  by 
Mr.  Gladstone  was  truly  described  by  Mr.  Balfour  as 
*a  declaration  of  war  against  the  House  of  Lords.' 
This  and  the  Home  Rule  policy  were  the  two  legacies 
which  the  retiring  statesman  bequeathed  to  his  party. 

As  early  as  1888  no  less  than  seven  members  who 
afterwards  sat  in  the  Radical  Cabinet  of  1892,  voted  in 


434  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  iv. 

favour  of  a  resolution  of  Mr.  Labouchere  stating  '  that, 
in  the  opinion  of  this  House,  it  is  contrary  to  the  true 
principles  of  representative  government,  and  injurious 
to  their  efficacy,  that  any  person  should  be  a  member 
of  one  House  of  the  Legislature  by  right  of  birth,  and 
it  is  therefore  desirable  to  put  an  end  to  any  such  ex- 
isting rights/'  It  is  not  surprising  that  such  men 
should  have  eagerly  taken  up  the  war  against  the 
House  of  Lords,  and  Cabinet  ministers  took  the  fore- 
most part  in  leading  the  assault.  The  policy  of  '  filling 
the  cup '  was  openly  avowed,  and  it  meant  that  measure 
after  measure  was  to  be  introduced  which  was  believed 
to  be  popular,  in  order  that  the  House  of  Lords  might 
reject  them,  and  might  in  this  way  be  discredited  with 
the  electors.  It  was  hoped  that  by  such  a  policy  the 
tide  of  democratic  feeling  would  rise  with  irresistible 
force  against  the  hereditary  House.  Mr.  Morley  rarely 
made  a  speech  on  the  platform  without  denouncing  the 
hereditary  legislators.  Mr.  Shaw  Lefevre  informed  his 
constituents  that  *  the  wisest  course  at  the  moment  is 
to  reduce  still  further  the  power  of  the  Lords,  by  de- 
priving them  of  the  power  of  veto,'  thus  reducing  them 
to  an  absolutely  impotent  body,  with  no  power  of  even 
retarding  legislation.  Sir  William  Harcourt  declared 
'  that  a  majority  of  a  single  vote  in  the  House  of  Com- 
mons is  a  more  accurate  representation  of  the  popular 
will  than  a  majority  of  four  hundred  in  the  House  of 
Lords.' ^ 

Other  ministers,  and  their  supporters  in  Parliament, 
followed  suit,  and  outside  the  House  Radical  organisa- 
tions and  Radical  speakers  and  writers  vied  with  one 
another  in  the  violence  of  their  denunciations,  in  their 


'  See  Charley,  The  Crusade  against  the  Constitution^  pp.  514-16. 
» Ibid.  pp.  437,  462. 


CH.  IV.  AN  ABORTIVE  CRUSADE  435 

contemptuous  or  arrogant  predictions  that  the  heredi- 
tary principle  had  had  its  day.  Catalogues  of  the  pre- 
tended misdeeds  of  the  House  of  Lords  during  the  last 
fifty  years  were  drawn  up,  without  the  slightest  inti- 
mation that  it  had  ever  fulfilled  any  one  useful  purpose. 
One  of  the  most  malevolent  and  grossly  partial  of  these 
works'  was  widely  circulated  with  the  warm  recom- 
mendation of  Mr.  Gladstone.  Another  popular  Radical 
writer  observed,  in  a  highly  jubilant  strain,  that  at  the 
election  of  1892  the  country  had  given  a  clear  mandate 
to  the  House  of  Commons  to  enact  a  Home  Rule  mea- 
sure; that  this  was  pre-eminently  'one  of  the  Acts 
upon  which  a  great  and  serious  peojile  never  go  back ' ; 
and  that  the  House  of  Lords  was  nothing  more  than  a 
farce  and  a  nuisance,  which  must  be  speedily  crushed. 
He  graciously  added  that  its  opposition  might  be  over- 
come by  raising  500  sweeps  to  the  peerage.'' 

There  were  signs  however,  that  all  was  not  moving 
as  the  leaders  of  this  party  desired.  It  was  a  curious 
and  significant  fact  that,  on  the  retirement  of  Mr. 
Gladstone,  the  party  found  it  necessary  or  expedient, 
after  much  heartburning,  to  go  to  the  House  of  Lords 
for  their  leader,  putting  aside  the  claims  of  their  leader 
in  the  Commons.  Under  the  new  system  of  local  go- 
vernment a  vast  multitude  ol  elections  were  taking 
place  on  an  exceedingly  democratic  basis,  and,  to  atten- 
tive observers,  no  feature  of  these  elections  was  more 
remarkable  than  the  extraordinary  popularity  of  peers 
as  candidates,  even  in  places  where  they  had  no  special 
local  interests.  It  is  only  necessary  to  look  through 
the  elections  of  the  London  County  Council  to  recog- 
nise this  fact.     It  was  evident,  too,  that  the  attempt  to 


'  Fifty  Years  of  the  House  of     '  Flow   to    Drive    Home    Rule 
Lords.  Home  '    {Fortnightly    Review, 

"  Mr.      Frederic      Ilarriaou,      Se-pteniber,  1892). 


436  DEMOCRACY  AND   LIBERTY  ch.  iv. 

create  a  popular  agitation  against  the  Lords  was  prov- 
ing very  impotent.  Neither  Great  Britain,  nor,  indeed, 
Ireland,  showed  the  smallest  indignation  because  the 
House  of  Lords  had  rejected  the  Irish  Home  Rule  Bill, 
and  because  it  had  refused  to  consent  to  the  scheme 
for  restoring,  at  the  cost  of  a  large  sum  of  public 
money,  the  tenants  who  had  been  evicted  because  they 
had  joined  the  conspiracy  called  '  the  Plan  of  Cam-, 
paign.'  Nor  were  the  ministers  more  successful  in 
their  attempts  to  persuade  the  working-men  that  the 
House  of  Lords  had  injured  them  because  it  had  intro- 
duced into  the  Employers'  Liability  Bill  an  amendment 
providing  that,  if  any  body  of  workmen  expressed  by 
a  clear  two-thirds  vote  their  desire  to  make  their  own 
insurance  arrangements  with  their  employers,  and  to 
contract  themselves  out  of  the  Bill,  they  should  be 
allowed  to  do  as  they  wished.  Divisions  multiplied  ; 
bye-elections  were  iinfavourable,  and  at  last,  after  a 
feeble  life  of  three  years,  the  Government  fell,  and  the 
inevitable  dissolution  speedily  followed.  On  the  eve 
of  the  election  Lord  Rosebery  clearly  and  emphatically 
told  the  country  that  the  real  and  supreme  question  at 
issue  was  the  House  of  Lords,  and  that  Home  Rule  and 
all  the  other  government  measures  were  involved  in  the 
destruction  of  what  he  somewhat  absurdly  called  its 
*  legislative  preponderance.' 

The  country  had  now  the  opportunity  of  expressing 
its  opinion  about  these  men,  their  objects,  and  their 
methods,  and  it  gave  an  answer  which  no  sophistry 
could  disguise  and  no  stupidity  could  misunderstand. 
The  complete,  crushing,  and  unequivocal  defeat  of  the 
Radical  party  in  1895  is  certainly  one  of  the  most  me- 
morable events  in  the  present  generation.  No  circum- 
stance of  humiliation  was  wanting.  The  majority  against 
the  late  Government  was  greater  than  any  which  had 


CH.  IV.  THE  GENERAL  ELECTION  OF  1895  437 

been  seen  in  England  since  the  election  of  1832.  In 
addition  to  several  less  important  members  of  that 
Government,  four  Cabinet  ministers,  including  those 
whose  attacks  on  the  House  of  Lords .  I  have  quoted, 
were  defeated  at  the  poll.  In  nearly  every  portion  of 
the  Kingdom,  and  in  town  and  country  alike,  the  ver- 
dict was  the  same.  In  constituencies  where  the  mem- 
bers of  the  party  escaped  disaster  they  usually  did  so 
by  a  greatly  decreased  vote.  But  most  conspicuous  of 
all  was  the  emphatic  condemnation  of  the  New  Liberal- 
ism, not  only  in  London,  but  also  in  the  overwhelming 
majority  of  the  great  provincial  towns,  where  indus^ 
trial  life  is  most  intense,  where  vast  masses  of  working- 
men  are  agglomerated,  and  where  the  oldgr  Liberalism 
had  found  its  strongest  and  most  enthusiastic  support. 

The  lesson  was  a  salutary  one,  and  it  is  not  likely  to 
be  forgotten.  It  proved  beyond  dispute,  what  many 
had  begun  to  doubt — the  profound  conservatism  of  the 
great  masses  of  the  English  people,  and  their  genuine 
attachment  to  the  institutions  of  their  country.  It 
showed  clearly  which  section  of  the  Liberal  party  in 
the  great  Home  Rule  schism  most  truly  reflected  the 
sentiments  and  the  conviction  of  the  nation.  It  showed 
how  enormously  men  had  overrated  the  importance  of 
the  noisy  groups  of  Socialists,  faddists,  and  revolution- 
ists that  float  upon  the  surface  of  English  political 
thought  like  froth-flakes  on  a  deep  and  silent  sea.  It 
showed,  also,  not  less  clearly  how  entirely  alien  to  Eng- 
lish feeling  was  the  log-rolling  strategy  which  had  of 
late  been  growing  so  rapidly  in  English  politics. 

It  would  be  uncandid  and  untrue  to  represent  this 
election  as  having  turned  solely  on  the  question  of  the 
House  of  Lords.  As  is  always  the  case,  many  differ- 
ent elements  conspired  to  the  result,  and  among  them 
must  be  included  that  periodical  tidal  movement  to 


438  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  iv. 

whicli  I  have  already  referred.  At  the  same  time,  tlie 
question  of  the  Upper  House  was  in  the  very  fore- 
ground of  the  battle,  and  was  as  directly  at  issue  as  it 
is  ever  likely  to  be  in  England,  unless  she  should 
adopt  the  system  of  a  Referendum.  The  result  of  the 
election  clearly  showed  that  the  House  of  Lords  had 
represented  the  opinion  of  the  nation  much  more  truly 
than  the  House  of  Commons  between  1892  and  1895  ; 
that  the  country  had  no  wish  to  overthrow  it,  or  to  de- 
stroy its  power,  or  to  extirpate  its  hereditary  element, 
and  that,  as  long  as  its  members  discharge  their  duty 
faithfully,  fearlessly,  and  moderately,  they  are  not  likely 
to  want  popular  support. 

At  the  same  time,  there  could  be  no  greater  error 
than  to  infer  from  the  triumph  of  1895  that  there  is 
no  need  of  any  change  or  reform  in  the  Upper  House, 
widening  its  basis,  increasing  its  strength  and  its  re- 
presentative character.  With  the  overwhelming  power 
that  is  now  placed  in  the  hands  of  the  House  of  Com- 
mons ;  with  the  liability  of  that  House  to  great  and 
sudden  fluctuations  ;  with  the  dangerous  influence 
which,  in  certain  conditions  of  politics,  small  groups, 
or  side-issues,  or  personal  dissensions  or  incapacities, 
may  exercise  on  the  course  of  its  decisions ;  with  the 
manifest  decay  of  the  moderate  and  moderating  ele- 
ments in  one  of  the  great  parties  of  the  State,  and 
with  a  Constitution  that  provides  none  of  the  special 
safeguards  against  sudden  and  inconsiderate  organic 
change  that  are  found  in  America  and  in  nearly  all 
Continental  countries,  the  existence  of  a  strong  Upper 
Chamber  is  a  matter  of  the  first  necessity.  It  is 
probable  that  the  continuance,  without  a  great  cata- 
strophe, of  democratic  government  depends  mainly 
upon  the  possibility  of  organising  such  a  Chamber,  re- 
presenting the  great  social  and  industrial  interests  in 


CH.  IV.  THE  ROMAN  SENATE  439 

the  country,  and  sufficiently  powerful  to  avert  the 
evils  that  must,  sooner  or  later,  follow  from  the  un- 
bridled power  of  a  purely  democratic  House  of  Com- 
mons. There  is  no  question  in  politics  of  a  more 
serious  interest  than  the  elements  from  which  such  a 
body  should  be  composed. 

A  brief  glance  at  the  constitutions  of  some  other 
countries  may  here  be  instructive.  The  most  illustri- 
ous of  all  examples  of  a  great  controlling,  aristocratic 
assembly  is  the  Senate  of  ancient  Eome,  a  body  which 
existed  for  no  less  than  1,300  years,  and  which,  at 
least  during  the  period  of  the  Kepublic,  contributed 
more  than  any  other  to  mould  the  fortunes  and  the 
character  of  the  only  State  which  both  achieved  and 
long  maintained  supreme  power  in  the  world.  Like 
the  House  of  Lords,  it  was  at  once  a  legislative  and 
a  judicial  body,  though  its  legislative  functions  were 
confined  to  sanctioning  laws  which  had  been  voted  by 
the  people,  and  were,  as  time  went  on,  greatly  im- 
paired. It  had,  however,  the  right  of  imposing  and 
applying  taxes.  It  had  complete  authority  over  fo- 
reign policy,  over  the  administration  of  the  provinces, 
and  over  the  conduct  of  war.  It  watched,  as  a  supreme 
body,  over  the  security  of  the  State,  and  had  even  a 
right  in  time  of  great  danger  to  suspend  the  laws  and 
confer  absolute  powers  on  the  consuls.  Though  it  was 
essentially  a  patrician  body,  it  was  not,  until  a  late 
period  of  the  Empire,  an  hereditary  body.  One  order 
of  magistrates  possessed  as  such  the  right  of  entering 
into  it ;  the  bulk  of  the  senators  were  chosen  for  life, 
first  by  the  consuls,  and  afterwards  by  the  censors,  but 
chosen  only  out  of  particular  classes.  In  the  earlier 
period  they  were  exclusively  patricians  ;  but  they  were 
afterwards  chosen  from  those  who  held  magisterial 
functions,  and,  as  the  magistrates  were  elected  by  the 


440  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  iv. 

whole  people,  though  by  a  very  unequal  suffrage,  the 
democratic  influence  thus  obtained  a  real,  though  in- 
direct, influence  in  the  Senate. 

During  the  last  days  of  the  Eepublic,  and  under  the 
Empire,  the  Senate  went  through  other  phases,  which 
it  is  not  necessary  for  us  to  follow.  Though  greatly 
hanged  and  greatly  lowered,  it  survived  every  other 
element  of  Eoman  freedom,  and  even  after  the  estab- 
lishment of  the  Byzantine  Empire  and  amid  the  anar- 
chy of  the  barbaric  invasions  it  played  no  small  part 
in  Eoman  history.  It  is  here  sufficient  to  notice  that 
in  the  days  of  its  vigour  and  greatness  it  was  neither 
an  elective  nor  an  hereditary  body,  though  both  elec- 
tion and  heredity  had  some  influence  over  its  compo- 
sition ;  and  that,  next  to  its  own  wisdom,  it  owed  its 
power  chiefly  to  the  number  and  importance  of  the 
great  functions  that  were  confided  to  it.* 

If  we  pass  over  the  great  chasm  which  separates  the 
Eoman  Eepublic  from  our  modern  day,  we  shall  find 
little  difference  of  opinion,  among  competent  judges, 
that  the  American  Senate  is  the  Upper  Chamber,  out 
of  England,  which  has  hitherto  ranked  the  highest. 
Until  very  recent  days  all  critics  of  the  American  Con- 
stitution would  have  agreed  with  Story,  that  the  Senate 
is  not  only  '  a  most  important  and  valuable  part  of  the 
system,'  but  is  even  '  the  real  balance-wheel,  which  ad- 
justs and  regulates  its  movements.''^  Some  discordant 
voices  have  of  late  been  heard,  but  as  a  work  of  con- 
structive and  prescient  statesmanship  it  unquestion- 


'  See    Merivale'8     Hist,     of  sen   and    Gibbon,   and,   on  its 

Rome^  iv.  9-14  ;  Bluntschli,  De  later  history,  Gregorovius,  Hist. 

VEtat^    pp.    384-85 ;   Laveleye,  of  Rome  in  the  Middle  Ages. 
Gouvernement  dans  la   Demo-  »  Commentaries  on  the    Con,' 

eratie,  ii.   19-22.     See,  too,  the  stitution  of  the  United  States^ 

notices  of  the  Senate  in  Momm-  ii.  182. 


CH.  IV.  THE  AMERICAN  SENATE  441 

ably  ranks  very  high,  though  one  of  its  most  important 
characteristics  is  less  due  to  deliberate  foresight  than  to 
an  inevitable  compromise.  ■  The  smaller  States  refused 
to  join  in  the  federation  unless  they  obtained,  in  at 
least  one  House,  the  security  of  an  equal  vote,  and  were 
thus  guaranteed  against  the  danger  of  absorption  by 
their  larger  colleagues.  In  the  Continental  Congress, 
which  first  met  in  1774,  it  had  been  agreed  that  each 
State  should,  in  voting,  count  for  only  one  ;  and  this 
system  was  afterwards  adopted  in  the  Senate,  with  one 
slight  modification.  In  the  Continental  Congress  the 
vote  had  been  by  States.  In  the  Senate  each  State  was 
represented  by  two  members,  but  they  voted  as  indi- 
viduals, and  might,  therefore,  take  different  sides. 

By  this  process  a  powerful  counterpoise  was  estab- 
lished to  the  empire  of  mere  numbers  which  prevailed 
in  the  Lower  House.  Two  members  represented  the 
smallest  as  well  as  the  largest  State,  and  they  were 
chosen,  not  by  a  directly  popular  vote,  but  by  the 
State  legislatures,  which,  like  the  Federal  Legislature 
consisted  of  two  Houses.^ 

The  next  question  that  arose  was  the  length  of  time 
during  which  the  senators  should  hold  their  office. 
Montesquieu  had  maintained  that  a  senator  ought  to 
be  chosen  for  life,  as  was  the  custom  in  Kome  and  in 
the  Greek  republics.  Alexander  Hamilton,  the  fore- 
most political  thinker  of  America,  and  probably  Jay, 
desired  to  adopt  this  system  ;  ^  but  it  was  ultimately 
agreed  to  adopt  a  limited  period,  considerably  longer 
than  that  which  was  assigned  to  the  members  of  the 
House  of  Representatives.  In  this  latter  House  the 
term  of  office  is  only  two  years.     In  the  Senate  it  is 


>  For  the  method  of  election,  "  Story,   ii.    189.      See,  too, 

see  pp.  69,  70,  of  this  volume.        Hamilton's  Works,  i.  834, 


442  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  iv. 

six  years  ;  one-third  of  the  Senate  being  renewed  every 
two  years  by  the  State  legislatures.  The  Senate  is 
thus  a  permanent  body  subject  to  frequent  modifica- 
tions. It  was  the  object  of  its  f  ramers  to  combine  a  con- 
siderable measure  of  that  continuity  of  policy  which 
should  be  one  of  the  first  ends  of  a  legislator  with 
close  and  constant  contact  with  State  opinion  ;  to  place 
the  Senate  above  the  violent  impulses,  the  transient 
passions,  the  dangerous  fluctuations  of  uninstructed 
masses,  but  not  above  the  genuine  and  steady  currents 
of  national  feeling.  The  qualifications  of  a  senator 
were  also  different  from  those  of  the  members  of  the 
other  House.  He  must  have  been  a  citizen  for  nine 
years,  whereas  in  the  other  House  seven  years  only 
were  required.  He  must  be  at  least  thirty  years  old, 
while  the  members  of  the  Lower  House  need  only  be 
twenty-five.  The  age  of  thirty  was  probably  adopted 
in  imitation  of  the  Roman  Senate. 

The  body,  representing  only  the  States,  is  a  very 
small  one.  It  at  first  consisted  of  twenty-six  members, 
and  with  the  multiplication  of  States  has  gi-adually 
risen  to  ninety. '  As  might  be  expected '  from  the 
manner  of  election,  nearly  all  its  members  are  experi- 
enced politicians,  who  have  sat  in  the  State  legislatures 
or  the  House  of  Representatives,  or  have  held  high 
official  posts,  and  in  intellect,  character  and  influence 
they  rise  considerably  above  the  average  of  American 
public  men.  The  Senate  is  presided  over  by  the  Vice- 
President  of  the  United  States,  who,  however,  is  not 
chosen  by  it,  and  who  has  no  vote  in  it,  except  in  the 
event  of  equal  division.  As  a  legislative  body  it  has 
the  same  powers  as  the  other  House,  except  that  it  can- 
not originate  money  Bills,  though  it  may  both  alter 


Including  the  senators  for  the  new  State  of  Utah. 


en.  IV.  THE  AMERICAN  SENATE  443 

and  reject  them.  It  is  not,  like  the  House  of  Lords, 
the  supreme  court  of  appeal,  but  public  men  accused 
of  violations  of  public  trusts  and  duties  may  be  im- 
peached before  it  by  the  House  of  Representatives. 
Its  position  in  this  respect  resembles,  but  not  exactly, 
that  of  the  British  House  of  Lords.  In  America,  two- 
thirds  of  the  members  present  must  concur  for  a  con- 
viction ;  the  senators  in  cases  of  impeachment  vote  on 
oath,  or  on  affirmation,  and  not,  like  English  peers,  on 
their  honour ;  their  sentence  does  not  extend  further 
than  a  removal  from  office  and  a  disqualification  from 
holding  office,  and  it  leaves  the  convicted  persons  still 
liable  to  indictment  and  punishment  according  to  law. 
If  the  person  impeached  is  the  President  of  the 
United  States,  the  Chief  Justice  of  the  Supreme  Court 
presides  over  the  Senate,  as  the  Vice-President  would 
have  a  personal  interest  in  the  issue.  It  must  be  added 
that  impeachment  has  long  been  obsolete  in  England, 
but  is  still  sometimes  employed  in  the  United  States. 
Subject  to  the  limits  and  conditions  which  the  Ameri- 
can Constitution  lays  down,  it  is  a  valuable  and  much- 
needed  restraint  upon  corruption. 

But  the  most  distinctive  feature  of  the  American 
Senate  is  its  large  share  in  what  in  most  countries 
would  be  considered  the  functions  of  the  Executive. 
In  foreign  policy  it  exercises  a  commanding  and  most 
salutary  influence.  The  American  Constitution  has 
carefully  provided  against  the  passion  for  organic 
change  which  is  natural  to  democracy ;  but  it  was 
more  difficult  to  provide  against  the  extreme  dangers 
that  may  ensue  when  foreign  policy  falls  into  the 
hands  of  demagogues,  is  treated  as  a  mere  shuttlecock 
of  party,  and  conducted  with  a  view  to  winning  votes. 
The  United  States  have  certainly  not  escaped  this  evil. 
In  few  other  countries  has  the  language  of  public  men. 


444  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  iv. 

even  in  responsible  positions,  been  more  frequently 
insulting  to  other  nations,  and  especially  to  Great 
Britain,  on  occasions  when  by  such  means  some  class 
of  electors  might  be  won.  If  America  had  been  a 
European  Continental  power,  surrounded  by  great 
military  empires,  the  attitude  of  her  public  men,  and 
even  of  her  legislative  bodies,  towards  other  nations 
and  their  affairs  would  have  drawn  her  into  many  wars. 
Fortunately  for  her,  she  escapes  by  her  situation  the 
chief  dangers  and  complications  of  foreign  policy.  In 
England,  at  least,  the  motives  that  inspire  the  lan- 
guage of  her  public  men  whenever  an  election  is  im- 
pending are  now  well  understood,  and  foreign  affairs, 
before  they  reach  the  stage  when  words  are  translated 
into  acts,  pass  into  a  calmer  and  wiser  atmosphere. 
No  treaty  with  a  foreign  Power  can  be  contracted,  and 
no  ambassador  or  other  negotiator  can  be  appointed, 
without  the  assent  of  the  Senate,  and  the  whole  sub- 
ject of  foreign  policy  is  therefore  brought  under  the 
supervision  of  the  standing  committee  of  that  body. 

Like  the  English  Cabinet,  it  on  these  occasions  de- 
liberates and  decides  in  secret.  It  is,  indeed,  one  of 
the  most  remarkable  characteristics  of  the  American 
democracy,  how  much  of  its  working  is  withdrawn 
from  the  public  eye.  As  I  have  already  mentioned, 
in  the  earlier  period  of  its  history  the  sittings  of  the 
Senate  v;ere  altogether  secret,*  and  the  rule  of  secrecy 
still  prevails  in  its  '  executive  sessions,'  though,  on  a 
demand  of  a  fifth  of  the  members  present,  the  votes  of 
the  members  may  be  published.  On  the  whole,  this 
arrangement  does  much  to  secure  ,a  true,  thorough, 
and  impartial  examination  of  foreign  policy,  free  from 
the  clap-trap  and  popularity  hunting  that  too  often 

» Bryce,  i.  149. 


CH.  IV.  THE  AMERICAN  SENATE  445 

accompany  public  discussion,  and  the  corruption  and 
intrigue  that  usually  follow  complete  secrecy. 

In  the  last  place,  the  Senate  has  a  great  part,  in 
concurrence  with  the  President,  in  distributing  tiie 
patronage  of  the  State.  It  is  the  President,  indeed, 
and  the  President  alone,  who  selects,  but  the  consent 
of  the  Senate  is  required  to  the  appointment.  This 
applies  not  only  to  the  diplomatic  and  great  executive 
appointments,  but  also  to  the  appointment  of  the 
judges  of  the  Supreme  Court.  Until  1867  the  assent 
of  the  Senate  was  only  required  to  appointments,  but 
not  to  removals ;  but  a  law  of  that  year  restricted  the 
sole  power  of  the  President  to  that  of  suspending  an 
official  when  Congress  is  not  in  session.' 

Such,  in  its  general  outlines,  is  this  illustrious  body, 
which  plays  so  important  a  part  in  American  history, 
and  has  excited  the  envy  and  admiration  of  many 
European  statesmen  and  writers  on  politics.  Its  merits 
are  great  and  manifest,  though  there  has  been  of  late 
eome  tendency  to  believe  that  they  have  been  exagge- 
rated, and  although  it  is,  unfortunately,  but  too  clear 
that  they  have  not  been  wholly  retained.  The  sketch 
which  I  have  drawn  in  a  former  chapter  of  the  later 
course  of  American  politics  sufficiently  proves  it,  and 
sufficiently  indicates  the  cause.  The  excellent  system 
of  indirect  and  double  election,  which  the  framers  of 
the  Constitution  considered  the  best  way  of  freeing 
democracy  from  its  baser  and  more  foolish  elements, 
has  not  been  able  to  withstand  the  pressure  and  the 
ingenuity  of  caucuses  and  managers.  The  men  who 
are  entrusted  with  the  task  of  voting  for  the  President 
have  long  since  been  deprived  by  their  electors  of  all 
liberty  of  choice,  and  are  strictly  pledged  to  vote  for 


Ford's  American  Citizen's  Manual^  p.  13. 


446  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  iv. 

particular  candidates.  In  the  election  of  senators  a 
similar  process  has  gradually,  though  more  imperfectly, 
prevailed.  The  State  legislatures  are  essentially  the 
creatures  of  the  caucus,  and  the  members  are  pledged 
when  elected  to  vote  for  particular  candidates  for  the 
Senate.  The  system  of  the  equality  of  the  States  has 
been  very  valuable  in  counteracting  one  great  danger 
of  democracy,  but  it  introduced  a  danger  of  another 
kind.  The  desire  of  the  free  and  slave  sections  of  the 
country  to  multiply  States  of  their  own  complexion,  in 
order  to  acquire  or  maintain  a  preponderance  in  the 
Senate,  was  one  main  cause  of  the  great  Civil  War. 
The  Senators  are  usually  the  most  prominent  states- 
men of  legislatures  that  are  often  exceedingly  corrupt, 
and  the  stream  which  springs  from  a  tainted  fountain 
cannot  be  wholly  pure.  In  spite  of  their  small  num- 
ber and  their  careful  selection,  the  members  of  the 
American  Senate  have  not  been  free  from  the  taint  or 
suspicion  of  personal  corruption.^ 

Though  in  some  respects  greatly  superior  to  the 
British  House  of  Lords  as  an  Upper  Chamber,  the 
Senate  ranks  in  this  respect  clearly  below  it,  and  be- 
low most  of  the  Upper  Houses  in  Europe.  One  of 
the  worst  results  of  democracy,  and  especially  one  of  the 
worst  results  of  the  influence  of  American  example 
upon  politics,  is  the  tendency  which  it  produces  to 
overrate  the  importance  of  machinery,  and  to  under- 
rate the  importance  of  character  in  public  life.  It 
is  not  surprising  that  it  should  be  so,  for  the  American 
Constitution  is,  probably,  the  best  example  which  his- 
tory affords  of  wise  political  machinery,  Nor  are  the 
great  men  who  formed  it  to  be  blamed  if  their  succes- 


'  See  the  admirable  pages  on  the  Senate  in  Mr.  Bryce's  AmeT' 
ican  Commonwealth. 


CH.  IV.  THE   AMERICAN  SENATE  447 

sors,  by  too  lax  laws  of  naturalisation  and  by  breaking 
down  all  the  old  restrictions  and  qualifications  of  race, 
colour,  and  property,  have  degraded  the  electorate, 
and  in  some  serious  respects  impaired  the  working  of 
the  Constitution.  To  me,  at  least,  it  seems  more  than 
doubtful  whether  there  is  any  political  advantage 
which  is  not  too  dearly  bought  if  it  leads  to  a  perma- 
nent lowering  of  the  character  of  public  men  and  of 
the  moral  tone  of  public  life.  In  the  long  run,  the 
increasing  or  diminishing  importance  of  character  in 
public  life  is  perhaps  the  best  test  of  the  progress  or 
decline  of  nations.  It  is  an  ominous  sign  for  a  nation 
when  its  governors  and  legislators  are  corrupt,  but  it 
is  a  still  worse  sign  when  public  opinion  has  come  to 
acquiesce  placidly  in  their  corruption. 

On  the  whole,  however,  the  influence  of  the  Ameri- 
can Senate  has  been  eminently  for  good ;  but  careful 
observers  believe  that  it  has  become  more  subservient 
than  it  once  was  to  the  corrupt  party  influences  that 
sway  American  politics.  Its  veto  upon  public  appoint- 
ments has  been,  I  believe,  of  great  advantage,  but  it 
has  not  always  been  exercised  as  it  ought.  There  is 
no  diplomatic  service  in  the  world  which  has  included 
men  of  higher  abilities  or  purer  characters  than  that 
of  America  ;  but  there  is  also,  I  suppose,  no  other  civi- 
lised nation  where  it  would  be  possible  for  a  Govern- 
ment, for  the  purpose  of  ingratiating  itself  with  a 
particular  class  of  voters,  to  select  as  their  national 
representative  in  a  foreign  country  a  man  of  another 
nation  who  had  recently  fled  from  justice  under  the 
gravest  of  imputations.  The  lines  with  which,  not 
long  since,  one  of  the  best  English  observers,  and  one 
of  the  most  sincere  English  admirers  of  American  in- 
stitutions, sums  up  his  impressions  of  the  Senate  are 
not  encouraging.     '  So  far  as  a  stranger  can  judge,' 


448  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH,  iv. 

writes  Mr.  Bryce,  '  there  is  certainly  less  respect  for 
the  Senate  collectively,  and  for  most  of  the  senators 
individually,  now  than  there  was  eighteen  years  ago, 
though,  of  course,  there  are  among  its  members  men 
of  an  ability  and  character  which  would  do  honour  to 
any  Assembly/ ' 

I  have  dwelt  at  some  length  upon  the  Constitution 
of  the  American  Senate,  as  it  is,  on  the  whole,  the 
most  remarkable  of  all  modern  instances  of  a  successful 
Upper  Chamber  not  based  on  the  hereditary  principle. 
It  is,  however,  evident  that  much  which  is  distinctive 
in  it,  and  which  has  contributed  most  to  its  peculiar 
importance,  is  so  alien  to  English  ideas  that  it  could 
not  be  reproduced.  It  is  hardly  within  the  range  of 
possibility  that  the  foreign  policy  of  England  and  the 
administration  of  the  chief  patronage  of  the  Crown 
should  be  placed  under  the  direct  control  and  supervi- 
sion of  an  Upj)er  Chamber  sitting  and  deciding  in 
secret,  nor  are  there  any  abuses  in  these  departments 
sufficiently  grave  to  require  so  great  a  change. 

It  will  not  be  necessary  to  bestow  more  than  a  cur- 
sory glance  on  a  few  typical  examples  of  the  Senates, 
or  Upper  Houses,  of  European  countries.^  In  the 
French  Republic,  by  the  constitutional  law  of  1875, 
the  Senate  consisted  of  300  members,  of  whom  seventy- 
five  were  elected  for  life  by  the  two  Houses  combined, 
and  afterwards,  as  vacancies  occurred,  by  the  Senate 
itself,  while  225  were  elected  for  nine  years  by  the  de- 


'  Bryce's  American  Common-  works,  and  is,  of  course,  pub- 

wealth,  i.  161.  lished  separately.     The   reader 

'  Full  particulars  of  these  con-  may    also    consult    Desplaces, 

stitutions  will  be   found  in  the  Senats    et     Chambres     Hautes, 

works  of  Dareste  and  Denioni-  1893 ;  Morizot-Tliibault,  Droits 

brynes,  which  I   have   already  des  Cham-bres  Hautes  en  matiire 

quoted.      The   revised   Belgian  de  Finances^  1891. 
Constitution  is  later  than  these 


CH.  IV.  THE  BUNDESRATH  449 

partments  and  the  colonies.  In  the  case  of  this  lat- 
ter class  the  American  system  of  indirect  election  is 
adopted,  deputies,  delegates  from  the  municipal  coun- 
cils and  some  other  local  authorities  being  the  electors. 
A  third  part  of  this  portion  of  the  Senate  is  renewed 
every  third  year,  and  this  system  of  partial  renewal  is 
largely  adopted  in  European  Senates.  It  will  be  found 
in  those  of  Spain,  Belgium,  the  Netherlands,  Denmark, 
and  Roumania,  though  the  periods  and  proportions  of 
renewal  are  somewhat  varied.  In  France,  as  in  Den- 
mark, the  Netherlands,  and  Switzerland,  the  senators 
receive  a  small  payment  like  the  members  of  the  Cham- 
ber of  Deputies.  The  French  Senate  can  be  converted 
into  a  court  of  justice  for  the  trial  of  political  offences. 
It  possesses  the  same  legislative  powers  as  the  Lower 
Chamber,  except  that  it  cannot  originate  money  Bills  ; 
and  it  has  one  special  prerogative — that  the  President 
can  only  dissolve  the  Chamber  of  Deputies  with  its 
consent.  By  a  law  of  1884  an  important  change  was 
introduced  into  its  composition.  The  life  peers  were 
not  removed,  but  it  was  enacted  that  no  more  should 
be  created,  and  that  all  vacancies  in  this  class  should 
be  filled  up,  in  the  usual  manner,  by  departmental 
election.  The  whole  body  will  thus  spring  from  the 
same  elective  source. 

In  the  German  Empire,  the  Bundesrath,  or  Federal 
Council,  is  so  unlike  the  usual  type  of  Upper  Cham- 
bers that  some  writers  hesitate  to  include  it  in  that 
category.  It  bears,  indeed,  in  some  respects  a  strong 
resemblance  to  a  privy  council  or  a  council  of  minis- 
ters. It  consists  of  fifty-eight  members,  appointed  by 
the  governments  of  the  different  States  in  the  German 
Empire.  In  this  representation,  however,  the  Ameri- 
can system  of  giving  equal  weight  to  all  States  has  not 
been  adopted.  The  States  are  represented  according 
VOL.  I.  29 


460  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTr  ca  vr. 

to  their  importance,  Prussia  having  seventeen  voices. 
The  Chancellor  of  the  Empire,  who  is  himself  chosen 
by  the  Emperor,  presides,  and  it  is  provided  that  the 
presidence  can  only  be  in  the  hands  of  a  representative 
of  Prussia  or  of  Bavaria. 

The  powers  of  this  body  are  very  extensive  and  very 
various.  No  measure  can  become  a  law  of  the  Em- 
pire, no  treaty  relating  to  the  common  affairs  of  the 
Empire  can  become  valid  without  its  consent.  No 
change  in  the  Constitution  of  the  Empire  can  be  effect- 
ed if  fourteen  members  of  the  Federal  Council  oppose 
it.  Its  members  have  a  right  to  appeal  and  speak  in  the 
Eeichstag,  though  they  cannot  be  members  of  it.  It 
proposes  measures  which  are  to  be  brought  before  the 
Eeichstag,  and  new  taxes  are  among  the  number,  and 
it  sends  delegates  into  that  body  to  support  them.  It 
has  great  administrative  powers.  It  establishes  from 
among  its  members  permanent  commissions  to  preside 
over  the  great  departments  of  affairs  which  are  com- 
mon to  the  Empire.  On  each  of  these  commissions  at 
least  four  States  must  be  represented,  besides  the  Em- 
peror ;  and  there  are  provisions,  which  it  is  not  here 
necessary  to  describe,  for  giving  special  privileges  on 
special  subjects  or  occasions  to  particular  States.  It 
has  the  right,  with  the  consent  of  the  Emperor,  to  dis- 
solve the  Reichstag,  and,  except  in  the  case  of  an  at- 
tack on  German  territory,  its  assent  is  required  for  a 
declaration  of  war.  It  has  the  power  of  pronouncing 
that  States  in  the  Imperial  Confederation  have  failed 
in  fulfilling  their  federal  obligation,  and  it  can  autho- 
rise the  Emperor  to  coerce  them.  Differences  between 
the  members  of  the  Confederation  that  ai'e  not  provided 
for  by  the  letter  of  the  Constitution,  or  cannot  be 
settled  by  legal  tribunals,  pass  before  the  Federal 
Council,  but  it  does  not  possess  in  these  cases  a  coer- 


OH.  vr.  AUSTRIA  461 

cive  authority.  It  has  also  some  right  of  supervision 
over  the  administration  of  justice,  especially  in  cases  of 
socialistic  or  anarchical  agitation.  The  power  of  the 
Emperor  and  the  power  of  the  Federal  Council  form 
together  such  a  formidable  weight  in  the  German  Em- 
pire that  the  real  influence  of  the  Eeichstag  has  hither- 
to been  much  less  than  that  of  the  popular  House  in 
most  constitutional  countries. 

The  constitutions  of  the  States  that  compose  the 
German  Empire  are  very  various,  and  I  will  here  only 
refer  briefly  to  that  of  Prussia,  which  is  the  most  im- 
portant. Its  Upper  House  is  composed  of  several  dis- 
tinct classes.  There  are  members  by  hereditary  right. 
There  are  a  small  number  who  hold  their  seats  by 
virtue  of  great  posts  which  they  occupy.  There  are 
members  who  are  nominated  for  life  absolutely  by  the 
King,  or  on  the  presentation  of  certain  classes  of  great 
proprietors,  of  the  universities,  and  of  the  principal 
towns.  The  whole  body  consists  of  rather  more  than 
300  members,  and  sixty  must  be  present  to  form  a 
House.  The  Prussian  House  of  Lords  can  only  accept  or 
reject  financial  measures  which  are  sent  to  it  from  the 
Lower  House.     It  can  neither  originate  nor  alter  them. 

The  Austrian  Upper  Chamber  is  framed  on  much 
the  same  composite  principle  as  that  of  Prussia.  In 
1895  it  consisted  of  the  princes  of  the  Imperial  Family 
who  had  attained  their  majority,  sixty-eight  hereditary 
members,  seventeen  Catholic  prelates,  and  131  mem- 
bers named  for  life.*  Delegations  from  Austria  and 
Hungary,  equal  in  numbers  and  elected  in  stated  pro- 
portions from  the  two  Houses  of  the  two  countries, 
sit  alternately  at  Vienna  and  Buda-Pesth,  and  manage 
those  imperial  affairs  which  are  common  to  both  nations. 


*  Almanack  de  Gotha,  1896,  p.  716. 


452  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  IT, 

In  Italy  the  composition  of  the  Senate  is  more  sim- 
ple. With  the  exception  of  the  princes  of  the  royal 
family,  it  consists  exclusively  of  members  nominated 
for  life  by  the  King.  No  limit  of  numbers  is  imposed, 
but  the  limit  of  age  is  forty  years,  and  the  members 
have  to  be  selected  from  eight  categories.  They  are 
chosen  from  the  clergy,  from  the  great  scientific  acade- 
mies, from  the  Chamber  of  Deputies  and  provincial 
councils,  from  the  high  functionaries  of  the  State,  from 
the  magistracy,  the  army,  and  the  heads  of  families 
who  pay  the  highest  taxes,  and,  finally,  from  those  who 
by  their  services  or  eminent  merits  have  deserved  well 
of  their  country.  The  Italian  Senate  has  all  the  legis- 
lative powers  of  the  Lower  Chamber,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  the  origination  of  taxes,  and,  like  most  other 
senates,  it  has  the  right  of  judging  as  a  judicial  body 
grave  political  offences. 

In  Spain  the  Senate  is  composed  of  360  members. 
Half  of  these  are  elected  in  different  proportions  by  the 
clergy,  the  learned  societies,  the  universities,  the  pro- 
vincial councils,  and  by  delegates  from  the  most-taxed 
commoners.  These  elected  members  are  renewed  by 
halves  every  five  years,  and  the  sovereign  has  also  the 
right  of  dissolving  this  portion  of  the  Senate.  The 
other  half  are  permanent,  and  sit  for  life.  Some  of 
them  sit  by  their  own  right.  To  this  category  belong 
the  chief  grandees  of  Spain  and  a  number  of  important 
functionaries  in  Church  and  State.  The  remainder 
are  nominated  for  life  by  the  Sovereign,  and  are  chosen 
out  of  particular  classes,  much  in  the  same  way  as  in 
Italy.  The  powers  of  the  Senate  are  substantially  the 
same  as  in  Italy.  In  Spain  no  measure  can  become 
law  unless  it  has  been  voted  for  by  a  majority  of  all 
the  members  who  constitute  each  Chamber. 

In  Switzerland  the  American  system  is  adopted  of 


OH.  IT.  ITALY,  SPAIN,  AND  SWITZERLAND  453 

having  one  Cliaml)er,  elected  by  the  population  in  pro- 
portion to  its  numbers,  while  the  other  Chamber  is 
elected  by  the  different  cantons,  each  canton  being 
equally  represented  by  two  deputies.^  The  respective 
provinces  of  the  Federal  Government  and  of  the  go- 
vernments of  the  cantons  are  minutely  traced  by  the 
Constitution,  but  the  two  Federal  Assemblies  have 
almost  equal,  though  in  some  respects  slightly  differ- 
ing, powers,  and,  as  I  have  already  noticed,  neither 
has  any  special  privilege  in  matters  of  taxation.  A 
curious  feature  of  the  Council  of  States  is,  that  there 
is  no  uniformity  in  the  election  of  its  members  and  in 
the  duration  of  their  mandate.  Each  canton  has  a 
right  to  send  two  deputies,  but  it  may  determine  for 
itself  the  mode  of  their  election  and  the  time  for  which 
they  are  to  sit.  Sometimes  these  deputies  are  chosen 
by  the  legislative  bodies  of  the  cantons,  and  sometimes 
by  direct  popular  election,  and  they  are  generally  cho- 
sen for  either  one  year  or  three  years.  The  two  Cham- 
bers usually  sit  separately,  but  for  some  purposes  they 
deliberate  together,  and  in  this  case,  in  the  event  of  a 
difference,  the  greatly  superior  numbers  in  the  more 
popular  House  give  it  an  overwhelming  preponderance. 
The  two  Houses  sitting  together  choose  the  seven  mem- 
bers of  the  Federal  Council,  which  is  the  executive 
Government  of  the  Confederation,  and  they  select,  out 
of  the  seven  members,  the  two  who  are  to  hold  during 
the  ensuing  year  the  position  of  President  and  Vice- 
President  of  the  Swiss  Eepublic.  The  whole  position 
of  the  legislative  bodies  in  Switzerland  is  materially 
lowered  by  the  Referendum,  or  power  of  appealing 
directly  to  a  popular  vote  upon  proposed  measures, 


>  In  some  cases  a  canton  has  been  split  into  two,  and  in  these 
cases  each  half  caotoo  eends  one  member. 


454  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  iv. 

which,  as  we  have  already  seen,  is  the  most  remark- 
able feature  in  the  Swiss  Republic. 

In  the  Netherlands  the  Upper  Chamber  is  elected 
by  the  provincial  States,  and  its  members  sit  for  nine 
years,  Avith  a  partial  renewal  every  three  years.  With 
the  exception  of  a  few  important  functionaries  they 
must  have  a  considerable  property  qualification,  which 
is  measured  by  the  taxation  they  pay.  By  a  singular, 
and,  as  it  seems  to  me,  most  unwise  provision,  the  Upper 
Chamber  has  no  right  either  of  initiating  or  of  amend- 
ing laws,  and  it  therefore  cannot  exercise  that  influence 
of  modification  or  compromise  which  is  the  most  valu- 
able function  of  most  Upper  Houses.  Its  sole  power 
in  legislation  is  to  accept  or  reject  in  their  totality  the 
measures  that  have  been  voted  by  the  other  Chamber. 
It  does  not  possess  the  power,  which  most  Senates  pos- 
sess, of  trying  ministers  who  are  impeached  by  the 
Lower  Chamber.  This  right  of  trial  belongs  to  the 
High  Court  of  Justice  ;  and  the  members  of  this  Court 
are  nominated  by  the  King,  who  selects  them  from  a  list 
of  candidates  which  is  submitted  to  him  at  each  vacancy 
by  the  Second  Chamber.  In  the  reform  of  the  Con- 
stitution which  took  place  in  1887,  the  number  of 
members  in  the  Upper  Chamber  was  increased  from 
thirty-nine  to  fifty,  and  that  in  the  Lower  House  from 
eighty-six  to  100. 

In  Belgium,  by  the  Constitution  of  1831  the  Senate 
was  elected  in  a  manner  which  is  quite  different  from 
those  I  have  hitherto  described,  and  which  is  pro- 
nounced by  the  best  Belgian  writer  on  constitutions 
to  be  'detestable.'^  It  was  elected  directly,  and  on 
the  basis  of  mere  numbers,  by  the  same  electors  as  the 
House  of  Representatives.  The  principal  differences 
between  the  two  Houses  were,  that  the  Senate  was  only 

'  Laveleye,  Le  Gouvernement  dans  la  Democratie,  ii.  455. 


CH.  IV.  THE  NETHERLANDS  AND  BELGIUM  455 

half  as  large  a  body  as  the  Chamber  of  Deputies  ;  that 
it  was  elected  for  eight  instead  of  four  years  ;  that  its 
members  were  unpaid,  and  that  they  could  only  be 
selected  from  the  larger  taxpayers  of  the  country. 
The  Senate  is  renewed  by  halves  every  four  years ; 
but  the  King  has  also  the  power  of  dissolving  it,  either 
separately,  or  conjointly  with  the  other  Chamber.  It 
has  the  same  legislative  powers  as  the  other  House, 
except  that  financial  measures  and  measures  relating  to 
the  contingent  of  the  army  must  be  first  voted  by  the 
Lower  House.  It  has  no  judicial  functions,  these 
being  reserved  exclusively  for  the  regular  tribunals. 
By  the  Constitution  of  1893  great  changes  have  been 
made  in  the  composition  of  the  Senate,  as  well  as  of 
the  Lower  House.  A  number  of  senators  equalling 
half  the  number  of  the  members  of  the  Chamber  of 
Deputies  are  now  directly  elected  by  the  voters  in  the 
provinces,  in  proportion  to  their  population,  and  with 
the  provision  that  the  electors  must  be  thirty  years  old. 
But,  in  addition  to  these,  there  is  another  class,  chosen 
by  the  provincial  councils,  each  council  returning  from 
two  to  four  senators,  according  to  the  population  of 
the  province  it  represents.  The  first  of  these  two 
classes  of  senators  must  be  chosen  from  among  citizens 
who  pay  a  certain  amount  of  direct  taxation.  For  the 
second  class  no  pecuniary  qualification  is  required.  The 
sons  of  the  sovereign,  or,  if  he  has  no  sons,  the  Belgian 
princes  who  come  next  in  the  order  of  succession,  are 
senators  in  their  own  right. 

The  foregoing  examples  will  be  sufficient  to  illustrate 
the  different  manners  in  which  the  problem  of  providing 
an  efficient  Upper  Chamber  can  be  met.  On  the  whole, 
these  Chambers  in  the  Continental  constitutions  have 
worked  well,  though  they  have  in  general  not  yet  had 
a  very  long  experience,  and  most  of  them — especially 


456  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  iv. 

those  of  a  composite  character — have  included  a  large 
proportion  of  the  chief  elements  of  weight  and  ability 
in  their  respective  countries.  In  the  colonial  constitu- 
tions under  the  British  Crown,  where  responsible  Go- 
vernments have  been  established,  the  usual  type  has 
been  one  elective  and  popular  Chamber  and  a  smaller 
Chamber,  consisting  of  members  who  are  either  nomi- 
nated for  life  directly  by  the  Crown,  or  who  sit  by 
virtue  of  high  offices  to  which  they  have  been  ap- 
pointed by  the  Crown,  or,  more  frequently,  of  a  com- 
bination of  both  classes.  In  some  cases,  however, 
election  and  nomination  are  mixed,  and  in  others 
the  Upper  House  is  completely  elective,  but  subject 
to  a  property  qualification  for  the  electors  or  members, 
or  for  both.  There  are  no  less  than  seventeen  colonies 
under  the  British  Crown  with  responsible  Govern- 
ments. Many  of  them  are  so  small  that  inferences 
drawn  from  them  are  scarcely  applicable  to  a  great 
country,  but  a  few  of  the  Senates  of  the  larger  colonies 
may  be  briefly  sketched.^ 

Thus,  in  the  Dominion  Parliament  of  the  great  Ca- 
nadian confederation  the  Senate  consists  of  eighty-one 
members,  nominated  for  life  by  the  Governor-General 
under  the  great  seal  of  Canada,  and  selected  in  stated 
proportions  from  the  different  provinces  in  the  con- 
federation. Each  senator  must  be  at  least  thirty  years 
old.  He  must  have  property  to  the  value  of  four  thou- 
sand dollars  and  a  residence  in  the  province  which  he 
represents,  and  he  receives  a  payment  of  one  thousand 
dollars  a  year.  Each  province  also  has  its  own  sepa- 
rate Parliament,  but  they  are  not  all  constructed  on 
the  same  type. 

'  An  excellent  summary  will  Constitutions,  1891.  See,  too, 
be  found  in  a  little  work  of  Mr.  Martin's  Statesman's  Year-Book. 
Arthur  Mills,    called   Colonial 


OH.  IT.  COLONIAL  SENATES  457 

In  Newfoundland  the  Legislative  Council  consists 
of  15  members  nominated  by  the  Governor,  while  the 
House  of  Assembly  is  elected  by  a  democratic  suffrage, 
though  a  property  qualification  is  retained  for  the 
members. 

In  Africa,  the  Senate  of  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope 
consists  of  twenty-two  members,  elected  for  ten  years, 
and  presided  over  by  the  Chief  Justice  of  the  colony. 
There  is  a  property  qualification  both  for  electors  and 
members,  and  the  members  of  both  Houses  are  paid. 
Full  responsible  government  in  this  colony  only  exists 
since  1872.  The  neighbouring  colony  of  Natal  was 
made  a  distinct  colony  in  1856.  Its  Legislative  Coun- 
cil is  formed  of  five  official  and  two  nominated  mem- 
bers, together  with  twenty-three  members  who  are 
elected  for  four  years  by  electors  possessing  a  certain 
property  qualification.  Vast  territories  lie  outside  these 
colonies,  which  are  administered  by  commissioners  ; 
while  the  West  African  dependencies,  with  their  large 
native  and  almost  infinitesimal  European  populations, 
and  the  more  important  islands  adjacent  to  Africa,  are 
managed  by  governors,  with  the  assistance  of  councils. 

In  the  numerous  islands  or  island  groups  which  are 
subject  to  the  British  Crown  there  is  much  variety  of 
constitution.  Thus,  in  the.  Bahamas,  in  Barbadoes, 
and  in  the  Bermudas,  we  find  the  threefold  constitu- 
tion consisting  of  a  governor,  a  popular  elected  As- 
sembly, and  a  Legislative  Council  nominated  by  the 
Crown.  In  the  Leeward  Islands,  which  were  combined 
into  a  single  Government  in  1883,  the  Federal  Govern- 
ment consists  of  a  governor  and  a  Legislative  Council 
of  ten  nominated  and  ten  elected  members,  represent- 
ing the  different  islands.  In  Jamaica  there  is  now  no 
representative  Assembly,  but  the  governor  is  aided  by 
a  Privy  Council  and  a  Legislative  Council  of  fourteen 


458  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  iv. 

ex-officio  and  nominated  members  and  fourteen  elected 
members.  The  governor  presides  over  the  Legislative 
Council.  A  measure  involving  expenditures  can  only  be 
introduced  with  his  consent,  but  nine  elected  members 
can  veto  it  unless  he  pronounces  it  to  be  of  paramount 
importance.  Most  of  the  small  islands  are  admini- 
stered by  a  governor  and  a  Legislative  Council  consisting 
partly  of  official  members  and  partly  of  members  nomi- 
nated by  the  Crown.  It  has  been  remarked  that  there 
is  a  strong  tendency  of  opinion  in  the  island  colonies 
hostile  to  representative  institutions,  and  in  favour  of 
more  concentrated  government  honestly  administered. 
Thus,  in  Grenada  and  St.  Vincent  representative  insti- 
tutions were  abolished  at  the  request  of  the  people  in 
1876  and  1877,  and  a  form  of  government  by  a  governor 
and  Legislative  Council,  partly  official  and  partly  un- 
official, has  been  adopted.  A  very  similar  change  had 
been  effected,  a  few  years  earlier,  in  several  of  the  islands 
which  formed  part  of  the  Leeward  Islands.  Jamaica, 
in  1866,  surrendered  a  representative  Constitution  that 
had  existed  for  200  years,  and  accepted  a  far  less  demo- 
cratic Constitution;  and  on  the  coast  of  Central  America 
representative  institutions,  after  an  experience  of  seven- 
teen years,  were  abolished  in  British  Honduras  in  1870. 
In  Australia  the  colonial  governments  have  passed 
through  several  phases,  and  questions  relating  to  the 
formation  of  an  Upper  Chamber,  its  power  over  money 
Bills,  and  its  relations  to  the  governor  and  the  Lower 
House,  have  been  fiercely  debated,  and  usually  argued 
chiefly  upon  British  precedents.  It  is  here  only  neces- 
sary to  state  the  nature  of  the  Upper  Council  in  each 
colony.  In  New  South  Wales  the  Legislative  Council 
is  nominated  for  life  by  the  governor.  The  minimum 
number  is  fixed  at  twenty-one;  but  this  number  has 
been  largely  exceeded,  and  there  was  one  unsuccessful 


CH.  IV.  COLONIAL  SENATES  -  HEREDITY  459 

attempt,  in  the  premiership  of  Sir  Charles  Cowper  in 
1861,  to  overbear  the  Council  by  nominating  a  large 
number  of  members  in  order  to  win  a  majority.  It  was 
strongly  condemned,  both  by  public  opinion  in  the 
colony  and  by  the  authorities  in  England. ^  Four-fifths 
of  the  members  must  be  persons  not  holding  any  paid 
office  under  the  Crown,  but  this  is  not  held  to  include 
officers  in  the  sea  and  land  forces  or  retired  officers  on 
pension.^  In  Queensland  the  Legislative  Council  is 
formed  on  the  same  principle  of  nomination  ;  in  Victo- 
ria, in  South  Australia,  in  Western  Australia,  and  in 
Tasmania,  it  is  an  elective  body,  directly  elected  for 
limited  periods,  but  usually  under  a  special  property 
qualification.  In  New  Zealand  the  less  democratic 
method  is  adopted,  and  the  Legislative  Council  consists 
of  members  nominated  by  the  governor.  Before  1891 
they  were  appointed  for  life  ;  but  an  Act  of  that  year 
made  all  new  appointments  tenable  for  seven  years 
only,  though  the  councillors  may  be  reappointed.^ 

If  we  turn  now  from  these  various  constitutions  to 
our  own  we  shall  find,  I  think,  a  very  general  agree- 
ment among  serious  political  thinkers  that  it  would 
be  an  extreme  misfortune  if  the  upper,  or  revising. 
Chamber  in  the  Legislature  were  abolished,  and  an 
agreement,  which,  if  less  general,  is  still  very  wide, 
that  it  must,  in  some  not  far  distant  day,  be  materially 
altered.  For  my  own  part,  I  should  consider  it  a  mis- 
fortune if  the  hereditary  element,  of  which  it  is  now 
mainly  composed,  were  not  still  largely  represented  in 
it.  The  peerage  occupies  a  vast  place  in  English  his- 
tory and  tradition.     It  has  a  widespread  influence  and 


'  See   Coghlan's    Wealth  and  '  Coghlan,  p.  501. 

Progress  of  New  South  Wales,  ^  New    Zealand     Year-Book^ 

p.  500.      Kusden's   History  of  1894,  p.  14. 
Australia^  iii.  258-62. 


460  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  iv. 

an  indisputable  popularity ;  and^  as  I  have  endea- 
voured to  show,  its  members  possess  in  a  high  degree 
some  of  the  qualities  and  capacities  that  are  most 
useful  in  the  government  of  men.  Their  political  pro- 
minence not  only  represents,  but  also  sustains  and 
strengthens,  a  connection  between  the  upper  classes  of 
the  country  and  political  life,  to  which  England  owes 
very  much,  and  in  an  age  as  democratic  as  our  own  it 
may  qualify  some  evils,  and  can  produce  no  danger. 

It  must  also  be  remembered  that,  without  resorting 
to  revolutionary  measures,  no  reform  of  the  House  of 
Lords  can  be  carried  without  its  own  assent,  and  it  is 
scarcely  within  the  limits  of  possibility  that  it  would 
sanction  a  law  which  extinguished  its  hereditary  ele- 
ment. To  carry  such  a  measure  in  spite  of  it  would 
probably  prove  a  long  and  most  serious  task.  It  has 
become  a  fashion  of  late  years,  at  times  when  the  House 
does,  or  threatens  to  do,  something  which  is  thought 
unpopular  to  organise  great  London  demonstrations 
against  it.  Some  thousands  of  men  and  women, 
largely  swollen  by  mere  holiday-seekers,  and  repre- 
senting at  most  a  very  doubtful  voting  preponderance 
in  two  or  three  London  constituencies,  are  accus- 
tomed to  assemble  in  Hyde  Park,  and  by  the  mouth 
of  men  who,  for  the  most  part,  would  be  unable  to  find 
a  single  constituency  that  would  send  them  into  Parlia- 
ment, to  proclaim  themselves  the  voice  of  the  nation, 
and  hurl  defiance  at  the  Upper  House.  In  England 
these  things  have  little  weight.  In  France  they  have 
been  more  serious,  for  more  than  one  revolution,  for 
which  the  immense  majority  of  the  French  people  had 
never  wished,  has  been  accomplished  by  the  violence  of 
a  Paris  mob.  There  can,  however,  be  little  doubt  that, 
if  a  proposal  for  the  violent  destruction  of  the  House 
of  Lords  were  brought  authoritatively  before  the  coun- 


CH.  IV.       REFORMS  OP  THE  PEERAGE         461 

try,  that  House  would  find  in  the  great  silent  classes  of 
the  nation  a  reserve  of  power  that  would  prove  very  for- 
midable. Nor  is  it  possible  to  predict  what  results 
and  what  reactions  would  ensue  if  once  the  barriers  of 
law  were  broken  down,  and  the  torrent  of  revolution- 
ary change  let  loose.  It  is  not  likely  that  true  liberty 
would  gain  by  the  struggle. 

The  British  aristocracy,  as  we  have  seen,  contains  a 
large  number  of  members  who  possess  every  moral  and 
intellectual  quality  that  is  needed  for  a  good  legislator. 
It  includes  also  many  members  who  have  neither  the 
tastes,  nor  the  knowledge,  nor  the  capacity  of  legisla- 
tors, and  whose  presence  in  the  House  of  Lords  proba- 
bly tends  more  than  any  other  single  circumstance  to 
discredit  it  in  the  country.  The  obvious  remedy  is, 
that  the  whole  peerage  should  elect  a  certain  number 
of  their  members  to  represent  them.  Eighty  or  100 
peers  returned  in  this  way  to  the  Upper  House  would 
form  a  body  of  men  of  commanding  influence  and  of 
the  highest  legislative  capacity.  The  Irish  and  Scotch 
peerages  already  furnish  examples  of  peers  of  the  realm 
who  are  not  members  of  the  Upper  House,  though  they 
are  eligible  for  that  position.  It  is  much  to  be  desired 
that  this  class  should  be  increased.  Among  other  ad- 
vantages, it  would  meet  the  case  of  men  who,  having 
attained  great  eminence,  or  performed  great  services  in 
fields  very  widely  removed  from  politics,  are  deserving 
of  the  highest  dignity  the  State  can  bestow,  but  who 
have  no  natural  aptitude  for  the  task  of  a  legislator. 
On  the  whole,  few  better  constituencies  can  be  con- 
ceived than  the  whole  body  of  the  peerage ;  but  the 
elected  peers  should  be  chosen  by  a  cumulative  vote,  or 
by  some  other  method  which  would  secure  the  propor- 
tionate representation  of  all  shades  of  opinion,  and  not, 
as  is  now  the  case  in  Ireland  and  Scotland,  by  a  method 


462  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTl^  CH.  iv. 

that  practically  extinguishes  minorities.  Those  peers 
who  were  not  elected,  or  who  did  not  wish  to  be  elected, 
to  the  Upper  House  should  have  the  right  of  standing 
like  other  men  for  the  Lower  one. 

To  these  ought,  I  think,  to  be  added  a  number  of 
life  peers  limited  by  statute.  Some  of  them  might  be 
what  are  called  '  official  peerages.'  Great  positions  of 
dignity  or  responsibility,  which  are  rarely  attained 
without  exceptional  ability  and  experience,  which  make 
men  the  natural  and  official  representatives  of  large 
classes,  and  bring  them  into  close  touch  with  their  in- 
terests, sentiments,  and  needs,  might  well  carry  with 
them  the  privilege  of  a  seat  in  the  Upper  House.  But, 
in  addition  to  these,  the  Crown  should  have  the  power 
of  conferring  life  peerages  on  men  who,  in  many  dif- 
ferent walks,  are  eminently  distinguished  by  their  ge- 
nius, knowledge,  or  services.  In  this  way  it  would  be 
possible  vastly  to  increase  both  the  influence  and  the 
efficiency  of  the  Upper  House,  and  to  bring  into  it  men 
who  do  not  possess  the  fortunes  that  are  generally  sup- 
posed to  be  needed  for  an  hereditary  peerage.  The  life 
peerages  that  are  already  possessed  by  the  bishops  and 
by  some  law  lords  furnish  a  precedent. 

Whether  beyond  the  limits  I  have  stated,  the  repre- 
sentative principle  should  be  introduced  into  the  British 
Upper  House  is  a  more  difficult  question.  In  com- 
paring England  with  the  Colonies,  it  must  always  be 
remembered  that  a  genuine  aristocracy  is  a  thing  which 
the  Colonies  do  not  possess,  and  which  it  is  not  pos- 
sible to  extemporise.  It  should  be  remembered,  too, 
that  a  new  country,  where  few  traditions  have  been 
formed,  where  all  the  conditions  of  life  and  property 
and  class  relations  are  very  simple,  and  where  the  task 
of  legislation  is  restricted  to  a  narrow  sphere,  may  be 
well  governed  under  constitutions  that  would  be  very 


CH.  IV.       REFORMS  OP  THE  PEERAGE        463 

unsuited  to  a  highly  complex  and  artificial  society, 
which  is  itself  the  centre  of  a  vast  and  most  heteroge- 
neous empire.  American  experience  shows  that  the 
system  of  double,  or  indirect  election,  cannot  retain 
its  distinctive  merits  in  times  or  countries  where  par- 
ty spirit  runs  very  high.  The  men  who  are  elected  by 
this  method  simply  represent  the  opinions  of  a  party 
majority  in  the  electing  body,  and  are  designated  by 
the  organisation  by  which  that  electing  body  is  cre- 
ated. 

Some  statesmen  of  considerable  authority  would  vest 
county  councils  and  municipalities  with  large  powers  of 
electing  members  to  the  Upper  House.  Whether  these 
for  the  most  part  very  recently  constructed  bodies  are 
as  yet  so  conspicuous  for  their  influence  or  their  judicial 
wisdom  that  they  could  be  safely  entrusted  with  this  task 
seems  to  me  very  doubtful.  If  the  projects  which  are 
now  vaguely  agitated  for  breaking  up  the  United  King- 
dom into  a  federation  should  ever  in  any  form  or 
measure  be  accomplished,  something  might  be  done  to 
mitigate  the  weakness  and  the  danger  that  such  a  dis- 
integration would  inevitably  produce,  by  receiving  in 
the  Upper  House  the  representatives  of  local  legisla- 
tures ;  and  a  similar  system  might  with  great  advan- 
tage be  extended  to  the  distant  parts  of  the  Empire. 
Distant  colonies,  which  lie  wholly  outside  the  range 
of  English  party  politics,  and  have  no  English  party 
objects  to  attain,  would  almost  certainly  send  to  an 
Upper  House  men  of  superior  character  and  abilities, 
and  their  presence  might  have  some  real  effect  in 
strengthening  the  ties  that  bind  the  Empire  together. 

It  is  impossible  to  predict  what  form  public  opinion 
on  these  matters  may  assume.  Some  pressing  party 
interest,  or  passion,  or  personal  ambition,  will  probably 
in  the  last  issue  determine  its  course,  unless  timely  wis- 


464  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  it. 

dom  in  dealing  with  this  momentous  question  is  dis- 
played by  the  true  lovers  of  the  Constitution. 

Some  other  and  minor  reforms  of  the  House  of  Lords 
seem  also  to  be  loudly  called  for.  One  of  these  is  the 
conversion  of  an  unlimited  into  a  limited  veto.  A 
power  of  preventing  for  all  time  measures  which  both 
the  House  of  Commons  and  the  constituencies  desire 
should  not  be  lodged  Avith  any  non-elected  legislative 
body,  and  an  unlimited  creation  of  peers  is  the  only 
means  which  the  Constitution  provides  for  overcoming 
the  resistance  of  the  House  of  Lords.  That  House,  in 
fact,  never  attempts  to  exert  its  full  theoretical  power 
on  any  large  question,  though  there  have  been  occa- 
sional and  deplorable  instances  of  its  rejecting,  through 
long  successions  of  Parliaments,  in  spite  of  constant 
majorities  in  the  Lower  House,  reforms  affecting  small 
classes  of  people  and  exciting  no  widespread  interest. 
But  on  great  questions,  and  on  questions  involving 
party  issues,  this  is  never  done  ;  and  the  very  magni- 
tude of  the  power  theoretically  vested  in  the  House  of 
Lords  is  an  obstacle  to  its  moderate  exercise.  A  veto 
limited  and  defined  by  law  would  be  more  fearlessly 
exercised  and  more  generally  accepted.  The  English 
system  of  veto  resembles  in  some  respects  the  English 
system  of  parliamentary  impeachment,  which,  extend- 
ing to  life,  liberty,  and  the  confiscation  of  goods,  is  a 
weapon  of  such  tremendous  force  that  it  has  become 
completely  obsolete  ;  while  in  America,  impeachment, 
carrying  only  very  moderate  penalties,  is  sometimes, 
though  rarely,  employed. 

It  is  well  understood  that,  on  all  great  questions,  the 
veto  of  the  House  of  Lords  is  now  merely  suspensory, 
securing  that  no  important  measure  can  be  carried 
which  does  not  represent  the  distinct,  the  deliberate, 
the  decided  opinion  of  the  nation.      When  a  policy 


CH.  IV.  A  LIMITED   VETO  465 

which  the  House  of  Commons  has  adopted  and  the 
House  of  Lords  rejected  has  been  clearly  ratified  by 
the  nation,  voting  on  a  distinct  issue,  and  by  consid- 
erable and  sustained  majorities,  the  House  of  Lords 
invariably  accepts  it.  But  the  importance  of  the  func- 
tion it  exercises  in  delaying  great  changes  until  this 
sanction  has  been  obtained  can  hardly  be  overesti- 
mated. As  I  have  already  said,  many  measures  pass 
through  the  House  of  Commons  which  the  constituen- 
cies never  desired,  or  even  considered,  because  they 
were  proposed  by  ministers  who,  on  totally  different 
questions,  had  obtained  a  parliamentary  majority. 
Other  measures  are  the  result  of  transient  excitement 
arising  from  some  transient  cause.  Others  are  carried, 
in  the  face  of  great  opposition,  by  a  bare,  or  perhaps 
languid,  divided,  and  dwindling  majority.  Other 
measures  are  accepted,  not  because  they  are  desired, 
but  because  they  cannot  be  rejected  without  overthrow- 
ing a  ministry. 

With  the  increasing  influence  of  ignorance  in  the 
electorate,  and  the  rapid  disintegration  of  Parliaments 
into  independent  groups,  the  necessity  of  a  strong  re- 
vising tribunal,  exercising  a  suspensory  veto,  becomes 
continually  greater.  It  is  extremely  desirable  that  the 
'  negative  of  the  House  of  Lords  should  at  least  extend 
over  one  Parliament,  so  that  the  particular  questions 
at  issue  should  be  brought  directly  before  the  electors. 
It  would  also  be  very  desirable  that  it  should  be  finally 
overcome,  not  by  a  bare  majority  of  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, but  by  a  majority  of  at  least  two-thirds. 

The  adoption  of  provisions  making  such  majorities 
necessary  in  many  branches  of  legislation  and  admin- 
istration would  furnish  a  powerful  safeguard  against 
revolutionary  or  tyrannical  measures.  In  America,  a 
two-thirds  majority  must  exist  in  both  Houses  in  order 

VOL.   I.  30 


466  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  iv. 

to  overcome  the  veto  of  the  President ;  and  we  have 
already  seen  the  still  stronger  precautions  that  are 
taken  in  the  American  Constitution  against  parliamen- 
tary attacks  on  the  Constitution,  on  contract,  pro- 
perty, or  individual  freedom.  In  theory,  the  unlimited 
power  of  veto  vested  in  the  House  of  Lords  forms  a 
sufficient  barrier  against  such  attacks.  In  practice 
this  protection  has  become  far  from  sufficient.  With- 
out the  existence  of  a  real  Constitution,  limiting  par- 
liamentary powers,  and  protected,  as  in  America,  by  a 
Supreme  Court,  England  will  never  possess,  in  these 
vital  points,  the  security  which  exists  beyond  the  At- 
lantic. Perhaps  the  best  protection  that  could  be 
obtained  without  such  a  fundamental  reorganisation 
would  be  a  law  providing  that  no  measure  should  be 
carried  against  the  resistance  of  the  Upper  House  un- 
less it  had  been  adopted  by  two  successive  Houses  of 
Commons,  and  by  majorities  of  at  least  two-thirds. 

Such  a  change  would,  in  theory,  diminish  the  pow- 
ers of  the  House  of  Lords.  In  practice  it  would,  I 
believe,  considerably  increase  them  ;  and,  if  it  were 
accompanied  by  reforms  such  as  I  have  indicated,  it 
would  render  the  House  very  powerful  for  good.  In 
the  days  when  government  was  mainly  in  the  hands 
of  classes  who  were  largely  influenced  by  traditions, 
precedents,  and  the  spirit  of  compromise,  tacit  un- 
derstandings, unrecognised  by  law,  were  sufficient  to 
define  the  provinces,  to  support,  and  at  the  same  time  to 
limit,  the  powers  of  the  different  parts  of  the  Consti- 
tution. Power  in  England  has  liow  passed  into  other 
hands  ;  another  spirit  prevails,  and  it  is  very  neces- 
sary that  every  function  and  capacity  should  be  clearly 
recognised  and  accurately  limited  by  law. 

Another  reform  which  would,  I  think,  be  very  ad- 
visable would  be  that  in  England,  as  in  most  Continen- 


OH.  IT.  MINISTERS  IN  BOTH  HOUSES  467 

tal  countries.  Cabinet  ministers  should  have  the  right 
of  opposing  or  defending  their  measures  in  both  Houses, 
though  their  right  of  voting  should  be  restricted  to 
the  House  to  which  they  belong.  The  great  evil  of 
the  present  system  is  especially  felt  when  the  most 
powerful  minister  is  in  the  House  of  Lords,  while  the 
decisive  verdict  on  his  policy  lies  with  the  Commons. 
A  policy  explained  by  subordinates  or  delegates  has 
never  the  same  weight  of  authority  as  when  it  is  ex- 
pounded by  the  principal.  It  is  a  manifest  defect  in 
the  Constitution  that  when  tlie  existence  of  a  ministry 
depends  on  a  House  of  Commons  decision  on  some 
question  of  foreign  policy,  such  a  minister  as  Lord 
Salisbury  or  Lord  Eosebery  should  be  excluded.  It  is 
also  a  great  evil  that  si  Prime  Minister,  when  forming 
his  ministry,  should  be  restricted  in  his  choice  of  the 
men  who  are  to  fill  posts  of  immense  responsibility, 
by  a  consideration  of  the  House  to  which  they  belong. 
A  change  which  made  such  a  restriction  unnecessary 
would  certainly  add  to  the  efficiency  of  ministries, 
and  its  benefits  would  far  outweigh  its  disadvantages. 
These  disadvantages  appear  to  be  a  slight  increase  of 
the  labour  thrown  on  Cabinet  ministers,  and  an  un- 
balanced increase  of  the  debating  (though  not  voting) 
powers  of  the  ministry,  arising  from  the  fact  that  the 
chief  ministers  would  have  the  power  of  speaking  in 
two  Houses,  while  the  leaders  of  the  Opposition  would 
be  confined  to  one.^  The  appearance,  however,  of  a 
Cabinet  minister  in  the  House  to  which  he  did  not  be- 
long ought,  I  think,  to  be  optional,  and  not  obligatory. 
The  last  reform   I  would   suggest  would  be  some 


'  It  would  be,  of  course,  possible  to  extend  the  priyilege  to 
members  of  either  House  who  had  held  Cabinet  rank. 


468  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  iv. 

relaxation  of  the  j^resent  rule  by  which  all  the  stages 
through  which  a  measure  has  passed  are  lost  if  the 
measure  is  not  completed  in  a  single  session.  A  com- 
plete abolition  of  this  rule,  which  would  enable  the 
House  of  Commons  to  take  up  at  the  beginning  of  a 
session  the  measures  which  were  left  unfinished  in  the 
last,  at  the  stages  which  they  had  then  reached,  pro- 
vided there  had  been  no  dissolution  in  the  interval, 
has  been  often  advocated.  It  has  been  argued  that 
the  present  system  involves  an  enormous  waste  of  time 
and  power,  that  this  waste  becomes  continually  more 
serious  with  the  increase  of  public  business,  that  it 
gives  a  great  encouragement  to  deliberate  obstruction. 
Few  things,  indeed,  seem  more  absurd  than  that  a 
measure  which  has  been  thoroughly  discussed  and  re- 
peatedly sanctioned  by  the  House  of  Commons  should 
be  lost  at  its  last  stage,  not  because  of  any  parliamen- 
tary defeat,  but  simply  because  the  House,  by  mere 
pressure  of  business,  has  been  unable  to  complete  its 
work  before  it  is  prorogued  for  its  holiday,  and  that  in 
the  ensuing  session  the  whole  ground  has  to  be  trod- 
den again  by  the  same  men.  Such  is  the  method  of 
doing  business  which  is  adopted  by  one  of  the  busiest, 
and  also  one  of  the  most  loquacious,  assemblies  in  the 
world.  In  most  foreign  legislatures  a  different  method 
is  pursued.  In  Belgium,  Denmark,  France,  Greece, 
the  Netherlands,  Portugal,  Spain,  Sweden,  Norway, 
and  the  United  States,  unfinished  legislation  may  be 
taken  up  in  the  following  session  in  the  stage  in  which 
it  was  left  when  the  prorogation  took  place.  ^  Yet  in 
none  of  these  countries,  with  the  possible  exception  of 


'  See  Dickinson's  Constitution  and  Procedure  of  Foreign  Par- 
liaments,  2d  ed.,  p.  9. 


CH.  IV.  POSTPONED  LEGISLATION  469 

America,  is  the  pressure  of  business  as  great  as  in  the 
British  Parliament.' 

There  are,  however,  real  arguments  in  favour  of  the 
British  system.  It  enables  the  House  of  Commons 
easily  to  get  rid  of  many  proposals  which  it  does  not 
consider  ripe  or  fit  for  immediate  legislation,  but  which 
for  various  reasons  it  does  not  wish  to  meet  with  a 
direct  negative.  There  is  also  another  consideration, 
which  I  have  already  indicated,  and  which,  though  it 
is  not  often  openly  expressed,  is,  I  believe,  widely  felt. 
It  is,  that  the  House  of  Commons,  as  it  is  at  present 
constituted,  with  its  practically  unlimited  powers,  may 
become,  under  the  direction  of  a  rash  or  unscrupulous 
minister,  so  great  an  evil  and  danger  in  the  State  that 
whatever  seriously  clogs  the  wheels  of  the  machine  is 
rather  an  advantage  than  a  disadvantage.  Great  as  is 
the  scandal  arising  from  deliberate  obstruction  or  the 
unbridled  license  of  loquacious  vanity  ;  great  as  are  the 
evils  of  the  postponement  of  much  necessary  legisla- 
tion, or  the  hasty  and  perfunctory  discharge  of  duties 
which  do  not  lend  themselves  to  party  exigencies, 
these  things,  in  the  eyes  of  many,  are  not  too  high  a 
price  to  pay  for  an  exemption  from  the  calamities  that 
would  follow,  if  a  party  majority  and  an  ambitious 
minister  could  swiftly  do  their  will  in  tearing  to  pieces 
the  old  institutions  and  settled  social  conditions  of  the 
country,  in  order  to  build  up  their  own  power  on  their 
ruin.  As  long  as  England  is  governed  under  its  pre- 
sent system   'the  declining  efficiency  of  Parliament 


'  One  result  of  this  system  is  lie  Bills  introduced  by  private 

the  great  obstacle  it  throws  in  members   in   five    years,   from 

the  way  of  legislation  initiated  1884  to   1889 ;  960  were  intro- 

by  private  members.    Mr.  Dick-  duced,    110   only    became    law 

inson  has   given   some    curious  (p.  8). 
■tatistics  about  the  fate  of  pub- 


470  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  iv. 

will  be  watched  by  many  patriotic  men  with  no  un- 
mingled  regret.  The  downward  progress  is  at  least 
a  slow  one.  In  spite  of  the  destruction  of  all  the 
balances  and  restrictions  of  the  Constitution,  the  men 
who  desire  to  revolutionise  find  many  obstacles  in  their 
way,  and  the  men  who,  in  order  to  win  votes  in  their 
constituencies,  have  pledged  themselves  to  revolution- 
ise, without  wishing  to  do  so,  find  easy  pretexts  for 
evading  their  promises. 

No  serious  evil,  however,  I  think,  would  follow  if  it 
were  provided  that,  when  a  measure  had  passed  through 
all  its  stages  in  the  Commons,  its  consideration  in  the 
Lords,  and  the  consideration  of  the  Lords'  amendments 
in  the  Commons,  might  be  adjourned  to,  or  extended 
over,  the  ensuing  session.  The  detailed  revision  and 
amendment  of  elaborate  measures,  which  is  one  of  the 
most  useful  and  uncontested  duties  of  an  Upper  House, 
cannot  be  properly  performed  when  those  measures 
are  only  sent  up  to  it  at  the  very  end  of  a  session,  and 
have  to  be  hurried  through  all  their  stages  in  a  few 
days.  Careful  and  well-considered  legislation  is,  after 
all,  the  great  end  of  a  legislative  body  ;  and  it  would 
be  much  more  fully  attained  in  England  if  the  con- 
sideration of  laws,  which  is  unduly  protracted  in  one 
House,  were  not  unduly  hurried  in  the  other. 


CK,  T.  THE  BALANCE  OF  POWER  471 


CHAPTER  V 

NATIONALITIES 

The  effects  of  democracy  on  the  liberty  of  the  world 
are  not  only  to  be  traced  in  the  changes  that  are 
passing  over  the  Governments  and  constitutions  of  the 
different  nations,  and  in  the  wide  fields  of  religions, 
intellectual,  social,  and  industrial  life  ;  they  are  also 
powerfully  felt  in  international  arrangements,  and  es- 
pecially in  the  growth  of  a  doctrine  of  nationalities  as 
the  basis  of  a  new  right  of  nations,  which  has  been 
one  of  the  most  conspicuous  features  of  nineteenth- 
century  history.  It  is  essentially  different  from  the 
old  doctrine  of  the  divine  right  of  kings,  which  re- 
garded great  tracts  of  the  world  as  the  rightful  domi- 
nion of  particular  dynasties ;  and  also  from  the  doc- 
trine of  the  balance  of  power,  which  prevailed  at  the 
Peace  of  Westphalia,  and  governed  most  of  the  capital 
changes  in  Europe  during  the  two  succeeding  centu- 
ries. According  to  the  great  politicians  and  political 
philosophers  of  the  seventeenth  and  eighteenth  cen- 
turies, the  maintenance  of  European  stability  is  the  su- 
preme end  of  international  politics.  The  first  object 
in  every  rearrangement  of  territory  should  be  to  make 
it  impossible  for  one  great  Power  to  absorb  or  dominate 
over  the  others  ;  and,  by  multiplying  what  are  called 
buffer  States,  and  by  many  artificial  divisions  and  appor- 
tionments of  territory,  they  endeavoured  to  diminish 
the  danger  of  collisions,  or  at  least  to  limit  as  much  as 


472  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  v. 

possible  their  number  and  their  scope.  Territorial 
changes,  in  their  view,  should  be  regarded  mainly  with 
a  view  to  these  objects,  and  justified  or  condemned  in 
proportion  as  they  attained  them.  The  more  modern 
doctrine  is,  that  every  people,  or  large  section  of  a 
nation,  has  an  absolute  and  indefeasible  right  to  the 
form  of  government  it  pleases,  and  that  every  imposi- 
tion upon  it  of  another  rule  is  essentially  illegitimate. 

It  is  not  here  necessary  to  trace  in  much  detail  the 
genesis  of  this  view.  It  was  prominent  among  the 
original  doctrines  of  the  French  Kevolution,  but  it 
was  not  long  consistently  maintained.  Popular  votes 
taken  under  the  pressure  of  an  occupying  army,  and 
largely  accompanied  by  banishments,  proscriptions, 
and  coups  d'etat,  had,  it  is  true,  some  place  in  the  first 
conquests  of  the  Revolution.  The  Convention  pro- 
claimed in  the  loftiest  language  its  determination  to 
respect  the  inalienable  right  of  every  people  to  choose 
its  own  form  of  government,'  and  the  Eepublic  made 
much  use  of  the  doctrine  of  the  rights  of  nationalities 
to  kindle  revolts ;  but  it  also  made  those  revolts  pow- 
erful instruments  for  effecting  its  own  territorial  ag- 
grandisement, and  it  was  speedily  transformed  into  a 
military  despotism  the  most  formidable,  the  most  ag- 
gressive, the  most  insatiably  ambitious  the  modern 
world  has  ever  seen.  The  strength  and  tenacity  of  the 
sentiment  of  nationality  were,  indeed,  seldom  more 
forcibly  displayed  than  in  the  struggle  of  Spain  and  of 
the  Tyrol  against  the  Emperor  who  professed  to  be 
the  armed  representative  of  the  French  Eevolution. 

After  Waterloo  the  rights  of  nationalities  suffered  a 
long  eclipse.  The  Congress  of  Vienna  and  the  arrange- 
ments of  the  peace  divided  countries  and  populations 


'  Sorel,  L' Europe  et  la  Revolution  Frangaise,  iii.  154-55, 169-70. 


CH.  V.  NATIONALITIES,   1830  — 1848  473 

among  the  victorious  Powers,  with  the  most  absolute 
disregard  for  national  antecedents  and  national  wishes. 
The  old  republic  of  Genoa  was  handed  over  to  Pied- 
mont, which  it  detested.  The  still  older  republic  of 
Venice  became  a  province  of  Austria.  Saxony  was 
divided,  and  a  great  part  annexed  to  Prussia.  Poland 
was  again  partitioned.  Catholic  Belgium  was  united 
with  Protestant  Holland,  and  the  Catholic  electorates 
on  the  Khine  with '  Protestant  Prussia.  The  doctrine 
of  the  divine  right  of  kings,  and  a  formal  repudi- 
ation of  the  right  of  nations  to  choose  their  forms  of 
government,  were  the  basis  of  the  new  '  Holy  Alliance,' 
of  the  resolutions  of  the  Congress  of  Laybach,  and  of 
the  whole  policy  of  Metternich,  and  in  accordance  with 
these  principles  insurrection  was  put  down  by  an  Au- 
strian army  in  Naples,  and  by  a  French  army  in  Spain. 
There  were,  however,  signs  that  the  doctrine  of  na- 
tionalities was  not  extinct,  and  there  were  movements 
in  this  direction  which  excited  hopes  that  were  not  fully 
justified  by  the  event.  The  enthusiasm  evoked  by  the 
emancipation  of  Greece,  by  the  revolt  of  the  Spanish 
colonies  in  America,  and  by  the  foreign  policy  of  Can- 
ning, marks  the  turn  of  the  stream,  and  the  French  Re- 
volution of  1830  kindled  a  democratic  and  a  nationalist 
movement  in  many  countries  much  like  that  which  ac- 
companied the  Eevolution  of  1848.  There  were  insur- 
rections or  agitations  in  many  of  the  States  of  Italy,  in 
Germany,  Denmark,  Poland,  Hungary,  Belgium,  and 
Brazil.  Most  of  them  were  speedily  suppressed.  Eussia 
crushed  with  merciless  severity  insurrection  in  Poland. 
An  Austrian  army  put  down  revolt  in  the  Pontifical 
States.  In  Germany  and  Austria  and  Italy  politics 
soon  moved  along  the  old  grooves,  and  the  spirit  of  re- 
action was  triumphant ;  but  the  separation  of  Belgium 
from  Holland  marked  a  great  step  in  the  direction  of 


474  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  v. 

the  rights  of  nationalities ;  the  government  of  France 
now  rested  on  a  parliamentary  basis  ;  popular  institu- 
tions were  introduced  into  Denmark  ;  the  aristocratic 
cantons  of  Switzerland  were  transformed,  and  the  Ke- 
form  Bill  of  1832  placed  English  politics  on  a  more 
democratic  basis.  Neither  Louis  Philippe  nor  Lord 
Palmerston  desired  to  propagate  revolution,  and  their 
alliance  was  chequered  and  broken  by  many  dissen- 
sions ;  but,  on  the  whole,  it  served  the  cause  of  liberty 
in  Europe,  and  still  more  the  cause  of  non-interven- 
tion. 

The  French  Kevolution  of  1848  again  changed  the 
aspect  of  affairs,  and  in  a  few  months  nearly  all  Europe 
was  convulsed.  The  revolutions  which  then  took  place 
were  essentially  revolutions  of  nationality,  and  though 
most  of  them  were  for  a  time  suppressed,  they  nearly 
all  eventually  accomplished  their  designs.  I  do  not 
propose  to  relate  their  well-known  history.  It  is  suffi- 
cient to  say  that  the  French  Government,  in  the  mani- 
festo which  was  issued  by  Lamartine  in  the  March  of 
1848,  Avhile  disclaiming  any  right  or  intention  of  in- 
tervening in  the  internal  affairs  of  other  countries, 
asserted,  perhaps  more  strongly  than  had  ever  been  be- 
fore done  in  an  official  document,  the  legitimacy  of  all 
popular  efforts  for  national  independence,  and  clearly 
intimated  that  when  such  risings  took  place  the  Kepub- 
lie  would  suffer  no  foreign  intervention  to  suppress 
them. 

The  doctrine  of  nationalities  has  been  especially  for- 
mulated and  defended  by  Italian  writers,  who  in  this 
field  occupy  the  foremost  place.  The  aspiration  towards 
a  common  nationality  that  slowly  grew  up  among  the 
Italian  people,  in  spite  of  the  many  and  ancient  politi- 
cal divisions  that  separated  them,  may  be  probably 
traced  to  the  traditions  ®f  the  old  Roman  power.    Dante 


CH.  V.        WHAT  CONSTITUTES  A  NATIONALITY?  475 

and  Maccliiavelli  at  once  displayed  and  strengthened  it, 
and  it  has  greatly  coloured  the  Italian  political  philo- 
sophy of  our  century. 

The  first  question  to  be  asked  is.  What  constitutes  a 
nationality  ?  Vico  had  defined  it  as  'a  natural  society 
of  men  who,  by  unity  of  territory,  of  origin,  of  cus- 
toms, and  of  language,  are  drawn  into  a  community 
of  life  and  of  social  conscience/  More  modern  Ital- 
ian writers,  among  whom  Mancini,  Mamiani,  and  Pie- 
rantoni  are  conspicuous,  have  employed  themselves 
in  amplifying  this  definition.  They  enumerate  as  the 
constituent  elements  of  nationality,  race,  religion,  lan- 
guage, geographical  position,  manners,  history,  and 
laws,  and  when  these  or  several  of  them  combine  they 
create  a  nationality.  It  becomes  perfect  when  a  spe- 
cial type  has  been  formed  ;  when  a  great  homogeneous 
body  of  men  acquires,  for  the  first  time  a  consciousness 
of  its  separate  nationality,  and  thus  becomes  '  a  moral 
unity  with  a  common  thought.'  This  is  the  cogito  ergo 
sum  of  nations,  the  self -consciousness  which  establishes 
in  nations  as  in  individuals  a  true  personality.  And  as 
the  individual  man,  according  to  these  writers,  has  an 
inalienable  right  to  personal  freedom,  so  also  has  the 
nationality.  Every  government  of  one  nationality  by 
another  is  of  the  nature  of  slavery,  and  is  essentially 
illegitimate,  and  the  true  right  of  nations  is  the  re- 
cognition of  the  full  right  of  each  nationality  to  ac- 
quire and  maintain  a  separate  existence,  to  create  or  to 
change  its  government  according  to  its  desires.  Civil 
communities  should  form,  extend,  and  dissolve  them- 
selves by  a  spontaneous  process,  and  in  accordance  with 
this  right  and  principle  of  nationality.  Every  sove- 
reign who  appeals  to  a  foreign  Power  to  suppress  move- 
ments among  his  own  people  ;  every  foreign  Power 
which  intervenes  as  Kussia  did  in  Hungary,  and  as 


476  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  v. 

Austria  did  in  Italy,  for  the  purpose  of  suppressing 
a  national  movement,  is  essentially  criminal.  On  the 
other  hand,  any  war  for  the  emancipation  of  struggling 
nationalities,  such  as  that  of  France  with  Austria,  and 
Eussia  with  Turkey,  derives  its  justification  from  this 
fact,  quite  irrespective  of  the  immediate  cause  or  pre- 
texts that  produced  it.^ 

Such,  pushed  to  its  full  extent  and  definition,  is  the 
philosophy  which,  in  vaguer  and  looser  terms,  per- 
vades very  widely  the  political  thought  of  Europe,  and 
has  played  a  great  part  in  the  historic  development 
of  the  nineteenth  century.  It  may  be  observed  that, 
though  the  idea  of  nationality  is  greatly  affected  by  de- 
mocracy, it  is  in  itself  distinct  from  it,  and  is,  in  fact, 
very  frequently  separated  from  it.  The  idea  and  pas- 
sion of  nationality  blend  quite  as  easily  with  loyalty  to 
a  dynasty  as  with  attachment  to  a  republican  form  of 
government,  and  nations  that  value  very  little  internal 
i,7  constitutional  freedom  are  often  passionately  devoted 
to  their  national  individuality  and  independence.  It 
may  be  observed  also,  that  the  many  different  elements 
of  nationality  which  have  been  mentioned  rarely  con- 
cur, and  that  no  one  of  them  is  always  sufficient  to 
mark  out  a  distinct  nationality.  As  a  matter  of  history, 
all  great  nations  have  been  formed,  in  the  first  instance, 
by  many  successive  conquests  and  aggrandisements,  and 
have  gradually  become  more  or  less  perfectly  fused  into 
a  single  organism.  Eace,  except  when  it  is  marked  by 
colour,  is  usually  a  most  obscure  and  deceptive  guide, 
and  in  most  European  countries  different  race  elements 

'  An  excellent  review  of  the  valuable     essay    by    Professor 

Italian    school    of   writers    on  Padeletti,    ibid.    iii.    464.      M. 

nationality,  by    Professor   Ton  fimile   OUivier,  in  his   Empire 

Holtzendorff,  will  be  found  in  Liberal,     has     discussed      the 

the  Revue  de  Droit  Tnternation-  French  views  on  the  subject, 
a/,   ii.    92-106.      See,   too,   a 


CH.  V.  NATIONALITY  AND  DEMOCRACY  477 

are  inextricably  mixed.  Language  and  religion  have 
had  a  much  greater  and  deeper  power  in  forming  na- 
tional unities ;  but  there  are  examples  of  different 
creeds  and  languages  very  successfully  blended  into  one 
nationality,  and  there  are  examples  of  separations  of 
feeling  and  character,  due  to  historical,  political,  and 
industrial  causes,  existing  where  race,  creed,  and  lan- 
guage are  all  the  same. 

In  the  opinion  of  some  writers,  even  the  will  of  the 
people  must  be  disregarded  when  questions  of  race, 
or  language,  or  geography,  demand  an  annexation, 
and  in  each  country  the  prevailing  theory  of  na- 
tionality is  very  manifestly  coloured  by  national  cir- 
cumstances. Thus  German  writers,  in  defending  the 
annexation  of  Alsace,  have '  not  contented  themselves 
with  arguing  that  this  province  was  acquired  in  repel- 
ling an  unjust  invasion,  and  that  its  retention  is  essen- 
tial to  the  security  of  Germany.  While  recognising 
fully  that  an  overwhelming  majority  of  Alsatian  votes 
would  be  given  in  favour  of  France,  they  have  justified 
the  annexation  on  the  ground  of  the  doctrine  of  na- 
tionalities, as  restoring  to  Germany  an  essentially  Ger- 
man province,  which  had  been  torn  from  her  in  part 
by  gross  fraud,  and  which  is  inhabited  by  a  population 
who,  though  not  German  in  sentiment,  were  at  least 
German  in  origin,  in  character,  and  in  language. 
French  writers  have  defended  their  designs  upon  the 
Rhine  on  the  ground  that  the  Ehine  boundary  is 
clearly  the  natural  frontier  of  France,  and  that  she  is, 
therefore,  only  completing  her  nationality  by  annex- 
ing a  territory  exclusively  inhabited  by  a  loyal  German 
population.  Italian  writers  have  demanded  the  absorp- 
tion or  annexation  of  Italian-speaking  communities  in 
Switzerland  and  Austria  because  they  are  Italian,  en- 
tirely irrespective  of  all  other  considerations. 


478  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  v. 

A  more  considerable  section,  however,  of  the  up- 
holders of  the  doctrine  of  nationalities  maintain  that 
annexations  can  only  be  justified,  and  can  always  be 
justified,  by  a  plebiscite  of  the  whole  male  population, 
and  it  was  one  of  the  great  objects  of  Napoleon  III. 
and  of  Count  Cavour  to  introduce  this  principle  into 
the  public  right  of  Europe.  It  was  adopted  when 
Savoy  and  Nice  were  annexed  to  France,  and  in  the 
case  of  the  different  Italian  States  which,  through 
their  own  spontaneous  action,  were  incorporated  in 
the  Italian  unity.  When,  after  the  war  of  1866,  the 
Austrian  Emperor,  in  order  to  avoid  the  humiliation 
of  treating  directly  with  Italy,  placed  Venetia  in  the 
hands  of  Napoleon  III.,  it  was  transferred  by  that 
sovereign  to  Italy  subject  to  the  consent  of  the  popula- 
tion by  a  plebiscite.  So,  too,  the  invasion  of  Neapoli- 
tan territory  in  1860,  and  the  capture  of  Eome  in  1870 
by  Piedmontese  troops,  without  any  declaration  of  war 
or  any  real  provocation,  and  in  violation  of  plain  treaty 
obligations,  were  held  to  have  been  justified  by  the 
popular  votes  which  shortly  after  incorporated  Naples 
and  Eome  in  the  Italian  Kingdom.  In  the  Treaty  of 
Prague,  which  was  concluded  in  1866,  and  which, 
among  other  things,  made  Prussia  the  ruler  of  Schles- 
wig-Holstein,  there  was  a  clause  promising  that  if  the 
inhabitants  of  the  northern  parts  of  Schleswig  expressed 
by  a  free  vote  their  desire  to  be  reunited  to  Denmark, 
their  wish  should  be  conceded  ;  but,  in  spite  of  a 
largely  signed  petition  for  such  a  vote,  this  promise,  to 
the  great  dishonour  of  Germany,  has  never  been  ful- 
filled.^ The  last  case,  as  far  as  I  am  aware,  of  the  em- 
ployment of  a  plebiscite  to  sanction  an  annexation  was 
in  1878,  when  the  little  island  of  St.  Barthelemy,  in 


*  Revue  de  Droit  International,  ii.  325-26. 


CH.  V.  PLEBISCITES  479 

the  Antilles,  was  ceded  by  the  King  of  Sweden  and 
Norway  to  the  French  Republic' 

Sometimes,  as  in  Italy,  the  movement  of  nationality 
is  a  movement  of  sympathy  and  agglomeration,  draw- 
ing together  men  who  had  long  been  politically  sepa- 
rated. More  frequently  it  is  a  disintegrating  force, 
and  many  of  its  advocates  desire  to  call  into  intense  life 
and  self-consciousness  the  different  race  elements  in  a 
great  and  composite  empire,  with  the  hope  that  they 
may  ultimately  assert  for  themselves  the  right  of  dis- 
tinct national  individuality. 

Within  certain  limits,  the  doctrine  of  nationalities 
undoubtedly  represents  a  real  and  considerable  progress 
in  human  affairs.  The  best,  the  truest,  the  most  solid 
basis  on  which  the  peace  of  the  civilised  world  can  rest 
is  the  free  consent  of  the  great  masses  of  its  population 
to  the  form  of  government  under  which  they  live. 
The  increased  recognition  of  this  fact,  the  increased 
sensitiveness  of  the  European-  conscience  to  the  iniquity 
of  destroying  wantonly  the  independence  of  a  civilised 
nation,  or  maintaining  one  civilised  nation  under  the 
yoke  of  another,  is  a  genuine  sign  of  moral  progress. 
At  the  same  time  there  can,  I  think,  be  little  question 
that  the  doctrine  of  nationalities  has  assumed  forms 
and  been  pushed  to  extremes  which  make  it  a  great 
danger  to  the  peace  of  the  world.  It  becomes  the  readi- 
est weapon  in  the  hands  both  of  a  conqueror  and  of  a 
revolutionist,  and,  by  discrediting  the  force  of  all  inter- 
national treaties,  deepening  lines  of  division,  and  in- 
troducing elements  of  anarchy  and  rebellion  into  most 
great  nations,  it  threatens  the  most  valuable  elements 
of  our  civilisation. 


'  See  Les  Annexions  et  les  Plebiscites  dans  PHistoire  Contempo^ 
raine,  par  E.  R.  De  Card  (1880). 


480  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ,      CH.  v. 

Scarcely  anyone  would  apply  it  to  the  dealings  of 
civilised  nations  with  savages,  or  with  the  semi-civilised 
portions  of  the  globe.  It  is,  indeed,  most  curious  to 
observe  the  passion  with  which  nations  that  are  accus- 
tomed to  affirm  the  inalienable  right  of  self-government 
in  the  most  unqualified  terms  have  thrown  themselves 
into  a  career  of  forcible  annexation  in  the  barbarous 
world.  Nor  is  it  easy  to  obtain  a  true  judgment  of  the 
opinion  even  of  civilised  communities.  A  plebiscite  is 
very  rarely  the  unforced,  spontaneous  expression  of  a 
genuine  national  desire.  It  is  usually  taken  to  ratify 
or  indemnify  an  accomplished  fact.  It  is  taken  only 
when  there  can  be  no  doubt  about  the  result,  and  a 
strong  centralised  Government  has,  on  such  occasions, 
an  enormous  power  of  organising  and  directing.  In 
all  countries  a  great  portion,  in  most  countries  a  large 
majority,  of  the  people  take  no  real  interest  in  political 
affairs,  and  if  a  great  constitutional  or  dynastic  ques- 
tion is  submitted  to  their  vote  by  a  strongly  organised 
Government,  this  Government  will  have  no  difficulty 
in  dictating  the  response.  Tolstoi,  in  one  of  his  later 
works,  has  made  some  remarks  on  this  subject  which, 
though  very  little  in  harmony  with  prevailing  ideas, 
contain,  I  believe,  a  large  measure  of  truth.  '  I  have 
always,'  he  writes,  '  noticed  that  the  most  serious  and 
the  most  respectable  members  of  the  labouring  class 
show  a  complete  indifference  to,  and  even  contempt 
for,  patriotic  manifestations  of  every  kind.  I  have  ob- 
served the  same  thing  among  the  labouring  class  in 
other  nations,  and  my  observation  has  often  been  con- 
firmed by  cultivated  Frenchmen,  Germans,  and  Eng- 
lishmen, when  speaking  of  their  own  fellow-citizens. 
The  labouring  population  is  too  intensely  and  too  ex- 
clusively occupied  with  the  care  of  providing  for  its 
own  subsistence  to  take  an  interest  in  those  political 


CH.  V.  TOLSTOI  ON  POPULAR  OPINION  481 

questions  which  lie  at  the  root  of  patriotism.  Such 
questions  as  Russian  influence  in  the  East,  the  unity  of 
Germany,  the  restoration  to  France  of  her  severed  pro- 
vinces, do  not  really  touch  the  people,  not  only  because 
they  scarcely  ever  know  the  first  elements  of  the  pro- 
blem, but  also  because  the  interests  of  their  lives  lie 
wholly  outside  the  circle  of  politics.  A  man  of  the 
people  will  never  really  care  to  know  what  is  the  exact 
line  of  the  national  frontier.  ...  To  him  his  country 
is  his  village  or  his  district.  He  either  knows  nothing 
of  what  lies  beyond,  or  it  is  a  matter  of  perfect  indiffer- 
ence to  him  to  what  government  these  territories  be- 
long. If  a  Eussian  emigrates,  he  will  not  care  whether 
his  new  home  is  under  the  dominion  of  Russia,  or  Tur- 
key, or  China.  ^^ 

But  even  putting  this  consideration  aside,  can  it 
seriously  be  maintained  that  a  great  and  ancient  na- 
tion is  obliged  to  acquiesce  in  its  own  disintegration 
whenever  a  portion  of  its  people  can  be  persuaded  to  de- 
sire a  separate  political  existence  ?  If  a  popular  move- 
ment can  at  any  time  destroy  the  unity  of  the  State, 
the  authority  of  the  sovereign  power,  and  the  bind- 
ing force  of  international  treaties,  the  whole  public 
order  of  Europe  must  give  way.  Some  of  the  coun- 
tries which  play  the  most  useful  and  respectable  parts 
in  the  concert  of  nations,  such  as  Switzerland,  Belgium, 
and  the  Austrian  Empire,  would  be  threatened  with 


'  Tolstoi,  U Esprit  Chretien  et  descend  the  scale  of  intellectual 
le  Patriotisme,  pp.  88-89, 93.  It  culture.  But  there  is  a  degree 
is  curious  to  contrast  this  judg-  where  it  altogether  disappears — 
ment  with  the  remarks  of  Goethe  where  men  rise,  so  to  speak, 
to  Eckermann.  'In  general,  above  the  lines  of  nationhood, 
national  hatred  has  this  special  and  sympathise  with  the  happi- 
characteristic,  that  you  will  al-  ness  or  unhappiness  of  a  neigh- 
ways  find  it  most  intense,  most  bouring  nation  as  if  it  consisted 
violent,   in  proportion  as    you  of  compatriots.* 

VOL.  I.  81 


482  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  V. 

immediate  dissolution  ;  and  there  is  scarcely  a  great 
country  in  Europe  which  does  not  contain  districts 
with  distinct  race  and  religious  elements,  which  might 
easily  be  quickened  into  separate  agitation.  As  in 
marriage  the  conviction  that  the  tie  is  a  life  tie,  be- 
ing supported  by  all  the  weight  of  law  and  opinion,  is 
sufficient  in  the  vast  majority  of  cases  to  counteract 
the  force  of  caprice  or  temporary  disagreement,  and 
produce  acquiescence  and  content,  so,  in  the  politi- 
cal world,  the  belief  in  the  sovereign  authority  of  the 
State,  and  in  the  indissoluble  character  of  national 
bonds,  gives  stability  and  unity  to  a  nation.  Divorce 
in  families,  and  revolution  in  States,  may  sometimes 
be  necessary,  and  even  desirable,  but  only  under  very 
grave  and  exceptional  circumstances. 

If  the  bonds  of  national  unity  are  lightly  severed  ;  if 
the  policy  of  disintegration  is  preached  as  in  itself  a  de- 
sirable thing ;  if  the  constituent  elements  of  a  king- 
dom are  encouraged  or  invited  to  assert  their  separate 
individuality,  nothing  but  anarchy  can  ensue.  The 
door  will  be  at  once  opened  to  endless  agitation  and 
intrigue,  and  every  ambitious,  restless,  unscrupu- 
lous conqueror  will  find  his  path  abundantly  prepared. 
It  is  the  object  of  all  such  men  to  see  surrounding 
nations  divided,  weakened,  and  perhaps  deprived  of 
important  strategical  positions,  through  internal  dis- 
sensions. One  of  the  great  dangers  of  our  age  is  that 
wars  are  likely  to  be  carried  on,  in  the  French  phrase, 
'  a  coup  de  revolutions,'  that  is,  by  deliberately  kin- 
dling democratic,  socialist,  or  nationalist  risings.  It 
has  been  stated  on  good  authority,  that  the  decision  of 
German  statesmen  to  adopt  universal  suffrage  as  the 
basis  of  their  Constitution  was  largely  due  to  the  de- 
sire to  guard  against  such  dangers.  From  the  French 
revolutionists,  who  begin  their  career  of  invasion  by 


CH.  ▼.  AMERICAN  ANNEXATIONS  483 

promising  French  assistance  to  every  struggling  na- 
tionality, to  tlie  modern  Panslavist,  who  is  often  preach- 
ing the  right  of  nationalities  in  the  mere  interest  of  a 
corrupt  and  persecuting  despotism,  this  doctrine  has 
been  abundantly  made  use  of  to  cloak  the  most  selfisli 
and  the  most  mischievous  designs.  Those  men  are  not 
serving  the  true  interests  of  humanity  who  enlarge  the 
pretexts  of  foreign  aggression,  and  weaken  the  force 
of  treaties  and  international  obligations,  on  which  the 
peace  and  stability  of  civilisation  so  largely  depend. 

Such  considerations  sufficiently  show  the  danger  of 
the  exaggerated  language  on  the  subject  of  the  rights 
of  nationalities  which  has  of  late  years  become  com- 
mon. It  will,  indeed,  be  observed  that  most  men  use 
such  language  mainly  in  judging  other  nations  and 
other  policies  than  their  own.  One  of  the  most  re- 
markable test  cases  of  this  kind  which  have  occurred 
in  our  generation  has  been  that  of  the  United  States. 
This  great  nation  is  one  of  the  least  military  as  well  as 
one  of  the  freest  and  most  democratic  in  the  world, 
and  its  representative  writers,  and  sometimes  even  its 
legislative  bodies,  are  fond  of  very  absolute  assertions 
of  the  right  of  revolution  and  the  inalienable  supre- 
macy of  the  popular  will.  Yet  in  its  own  acquisitions 
the  American  Republic  has  never  adopted  the  principle 
of  plebiscite.  Texas  was  admitted  into  the  Union  by 
a  treaty  with  a  State  which  was  considered  indepen- 
dent ;  Upper  California  was  conquered  from  Mexico ; 
New  Mexico  was  acquired  by  purchase  ;  Louisiana  was 
purchased  from  Napoleon  in  1803  ;  Florida  was  ac- 
quired by  treaty  with  Spain  in  1821 ;  but  in  no  one 
of  these  cases  Avere  the  people  consulted  by  a  popular 
vote.* 

'  See  an  article  by  Professor  Lieber  on  Plebiscites,  Revue  de 
Droit  International,  iii.  139-45. 


484  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  T. 

But  most  significant  of  all  was  the  attitude  assumed 
by  the  Federal  Government  in  dealing  with  the  seces- 
sion of  the  South.  Long  before  that  secession  some  of 
the  best  observers  had  clearly  pointed  out  how  the  in- 
fluence of  climate,  and  much  more  the  special  type  of 
industry  and  character  which  slavery  produced,  had 
already  created  a  profound  and  lasting  difiEerence  be- 
tween the  North  and  the  South.  Both  Madison  and 
Story  had  foreseen  that  the  great  danger  to  the  United 
States  was  the  opposition  between  the  Northern  and 
Southern  interests.^  Calhoun  was  so  sensible  of  the 
difference  that  he  proposed  the  establishment  of  two 
presidents,  one  for  the  free,  and  the  other  for  the  slave 
States,  each  with  a  veto  on  all  national  legislation.* 
Guizot  ^  and  Tocqueville  ^  had  both  distinctly  recog- 
nised the  same  truth.  Though  language  and  religion 
were  the  same,  and  though  race  was  not  widely  differ- 
ent, two  distinct  nations  had  grown  up,  clearly  sepa- 
rated in  their  merits  and  their  defects,  in  character, 
manners,  aspirations,  and  interests. 

After  the  election  of  President  Lincoln  the  long- 
impending  disruption  came.  The  Southern  States 
proclaimed  the  right  of  nationalities,  demanded  their 
independence,  and  proved  their  earnestness  and  their 
unanimity  by  arguments  that  were  far  more  unequivo- 
cal than  any  doubtful  plebiscite.  For  four  long  years 
they  defended  their  cause  on  the  battle-field  with  heroic 
courage,  against  overwhelming  odds,  and  at  the  sacri- 


*  Story's    Commentaries     on  the  sagacity  of  Guizot,  •when  it  is 

the  Constitution  of  the    United  remembered  that  these  lectures 

States,  ii.  177.  were    delivered    between    1828 

"  Goldwin  Smith's  The  Uni-  and  1830)  in  the  Hist,  de  la  Ci- 
ted States,  p.  184.  vilisation,  XVIII""  lecon. 

^  See  a  very  remarkable  pas-  *  Democratie    en    Am^riqiie^ 

sage  (exceedingly  creditable  to  tom.  ii.  ch.  x. 


CH.  V.  THE  WAR  OF  SECESSION  485 

fice  of  everything  that  men  most  desire.  American 
and  indeed  European  writers  are  accustomed  to  speak 
of  the  heroism  of  the  American  colonies  in  repudiating 
imperial  taxation,  and  asserting  and  achieving  their 
independence  against  all  the  force  of  Great  Britain. 
But  no  one  who  looks  carefully  into  the  history  of  the 
American  revolution,  who  observes  the  languor,  the 
profound  divisions,  the  frequent  pusillanimity,  the  ab- 
sence of  all  strong  and  unselfish  enthusiasm  that  were 
displayed  in  great  portions  of  the  revolted  colonies, 
and  their  entire  dependence  for  success  on  foreign  as- 
sistance, will  doubt  that  the  Southern  States  in  the 
War  of  Secession  exhibited  an  incomparably  higher 
level  of  courage,  tenacity,  and  self-sacrifice.  No  na- 
tion in  the  nineteenth  century  has  maintained  its  na- 
tionhood with  more  courage  and  unanimity.  But  it 
was  encountered  with  an  equal  tenacity,  and  with  far 
greater  resources,  and,  after  a  sacrifice  of  life  uil- 
equalled  in  any  war  since  the  fall  of  Napoleon,  the 
North  succeeded  in  crushing  the  revolt  and  establish- 
ing its  authority  over  the  vanquished  South. 

The  struggle  took  place  at  a  time  when  the  recent 
emancipation  of  Italy  had  brought  the  doctrine  of  the 
rights  of  nationalities  into  the  strongest  relief.  That 
doctrine  had  been  accepted  with  enthusiasm  by  nearly 
all  that  was  progressive  in  Europe,  and  nowhere  more 
widely  and  more  passionately  than  in  England.  It  is 
curious  and  instructive  to  observe  the  attitude  of  Eng- 
lish opinion  towards  the  contest  that  ensued.  At  the 
opening  of  the  war  the  secession  of  the  South  was  very 
generally  blamed,  and  throughout  the  war  a  majority 
of  the  population  remained,  I  believe,  steadily  on  the 
side  of  the  North.  With  the  great  body  of  the  working 
classes  the  question  was  looked  on  simply  as  a  question 
of  slavery.     The  North  was  represented  as  fighting  for 


486  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  V. 

the  abolition  of  slavery,  which  it  certainly  was  not, 
and  as  fighting  to  prevent  the  extension  of  slavery  to  the 
new  territories,  which  it  certainly  was  ;  and  the  cause 
of  democracy  was  deemed  inseparably  connected  with 
the  maintenance  and  the  success  of  the  great  Eepublic 
of  the  West.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  a  majority  of 
the  upper,  and  perhaps  of  the  middle,  classes  soon 
came  to  sympathise  decidedly  with  the  South,  and 
they  were  the  classes  who  were  most  powerfully  repre- 
sented in  the  press,  in  society,  and  in  Parliament. 

Their  motives  were  very  various.  Some  were,  no 
doubt,  unworthy,  or  purely  frivolous.  There  was  the 
contrast,  which  was  then  often  drawn,  between  '  the 
gentlemen  of  the  South '  and  '  the  shopkeepers  of  the 
North.'  There  was  jealousy  of  the  increasing  power 
of  the  United  States,  and  of  the  increasing  attraction 
of  its  form  of  government.  There  was  resentment  ex- 
cited by  many  unscrupulous  acts  and  many  insulting 
words  of  American  statesmen  and  writers ;  and  the 
ignorance  of  American  politics  was  so  great  that  few 
Englishmen  realised  that  the  aggressive  side  of  Ameri- 
can policy  had  been  mainly  due  to  Southern  statesmen 
acting  in  Southern  interests.  The  enmity  which  led 
the  United  States  to  declare  war  against  England  in 
1812,  at  the  time  when  England  was  engaged  in  a  des- 
perate struggle  for  her  existence  and  for  the  liberty 
of  Europe  against  the  overwhelming  power  of  Napo- 
leon, was  not  wholly  forgotten,'  and  the  more  recent 
sympathy  of  America  with  Russia  during  the  Crimean 
war  had,  perhaps,  still  some  slight  influence.  There 
were  also  powerful  considerations  of  present  English 
interests  involved  in  the  war.    The  North  was  strongly 


'  See  some  excellent  remarks  on  this  war  in  Goldwin  Smith's 
United  States,  pp.  166-74. 


CH.  V.  ENGLISH  OPINION  ON  THE  WAR  487 

Protectionist,  and  had  begun  the  war  by  enacting  an 
ultra-Protectionist  tariff,  while  the  South  was  the  fer- 
vent champion  of  Free  Trade,  and  it  was  from  the 
South  that  the  English  cotton  manufacture  obtained 
its  supplies,  while  the  Northern  blockade  was  reducing 
to  extreme  distress  the  population  of  Lancashire.  Nor 
should  we  omit  that  'sporting  spirit'  which,  it  has 
been  truly  said,  largely  governs  English  interest  in 
every  foreign  struggle.  A  comparatively  small  Power, 
encountering  with  consummate  skill,  with  desperate 
courage,  and  for  a  long  time  with  brilliant  success,  a 
gigantic  but  unwieldy  and  less  skilful  adversary,  was 
certain  to  awake  strong  popular  interest,  quite  irrespec- 
tive of  the  merits  of  the  case. 

But  it  would  be  a  grave  injustice  to  attribute  to  such 
motives  the  great  body  of  serious  and  deliberate  opinion 
in  England  which  desired  the  recognition  of  Southern 
independence  and  the  cessation  of  the  war.  One  large 
class  emphatically  condemned  the  original  secession ; 
but  they  either  believed,  with  most  experienced  Euro- 
pean statesmen,  that  the  final  subjugation  of  the  South 
was  impossible,  and  that  the  prolongation  of  the  war 
was,  in  consequence,  a  mere  useless  waste  of  life,  or 
that,  if  the  South  were  finally  subjugated,  it  would 
reproduce  in  America  that  most  lamentable  of  all  Eu- 
ropean spectacles,  the  spectacle  of  a  subjugated  Poland. 
Another  large  class  believed  that,  on  the  principle  of 
the  American  Constitution,  the  South  was  acting  with- 
in its  constitutional  rights.  They  contended  that  when 
the  separate  States  agreed  on  carefully  defined  condi- 
tions to  enter  into  a  bond  of  union,  they  never  meant 
to  surrender  the  right,  which  they  had  so  lately  vindi- 
cated against  Great  Britain,  of  seceding  from  it  if  the 
main  body  of  their  citizens  desired  it.  This  was  the 
doctrine  of  Calhoun,  and  it  was  supported  by  a  great 


488  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  v. 

weight  both  of  argument  and  authority.  There  were 
some  who,  like  Sir  Cornewall  Lewis,  detested  slavery, 
but  who  contended  that  the  differences  between  North 
and  South  were  so  grave  that  separation  was  the  only 
solution,  and  that  it  would  ultimately  prove  a  great 
blessing  to  America,  as  well  as  to  the  world,  if  the 
Northern  States  developed  as  a  separate  republic,  un- 
tainted by  the  deteriorating  influences  of  negro  slavery 
and  a  tropical  climate.^  But  the  strongest  argument 
on  this  side  was  the  doctrine  of  the  rights  of  nationali- 
ties. I  can  well  remember  how  the  illustrious  histo- 
rian, Mr.  Grote,  whose  political  leanings  were  strongly 
democratic,  and  who,  at  the  same  time,  always  formed 
his  opinions  with  an  austere  independence  and  integ- 
rity, was  accustomed  to  speak  on  the  subject,  and  how 
emphatically  he  dissented  from  the  views  of  Mill  and 
of  a  large  proportion  of  those  with  whom  he  usually 
acted.  He  could  not,  he  said,  understand  how  those 
who  had  been  so  lately  preaching  in  the  most  unquali- 
fied terms  that  all  large  bodies  of  men  had  an  absolute, 
unimpeachable,  indefeasible  right  to  choose  for  them- 
selves their  form  of  government,  and  that  the  growing 
recognition  of  this  right  was  one  of  the  first  conditions 
of  progress  and  liberty,  could  support  or  applaud  the 
Federal  Government  in  imposing  on  the  Southern 
States  a  government  which  they  detested,  and  in  over- 
riding by  force  their  evident  and  unquestionable  desire. 
The  inconsistency  was  real  and  flagrant,  and  the  atti- 
tude of  the  North,  and  of  its  supporters  in  Europe, 
could  only  be  justified  on  the  ground  that  the  right 
of  nationalities  was  not  the  absolute,  unlimited  thing 
which  it  had  been  customary  to  assert.     In  the  North- 


'  See  a  letter  by  Sir  Cornewall  Lewis  prefixed  to  his  Adminis- 
trations of  Great  Britain,  p.  19. 


CH.  V.  RESULTS  OF  THE  WAR  489 

em  States  public  opinion  never  faltered.  Before  the 
war  began,  it  is  true,  there  were  some  men,  among 
whom  Horace  Greeley  was  conspicuous,  who  main- 
tained that  if  the  Southern  States  generally  desired  to 
secede  they  ought  not  to  be  prevented  ;  and  there  were 
many  men  who  throughout  the  war  tried  to  persuade 
themselves  that  a  strong  unionist  sentiment  was  latent 
in  the  South.  But  the  question  of  submitting  the  in- 
tegrity of  the  Kepublic  to  a  popular  vote  in  the  several 
States  was  never  entertained,  though  there  was  a  pro- 
posal, which  was  defeated  by  the  Republican  party,  of 
submitting  to  a  direct  popular  vote  a  compromise  about 
slavery  which  might  have  averted  the  war.'  It  was  at 
once  felt  that  the  question  at  issue  was  a  question  of 
national  preservation,  to  which  all  other  considerations 
must  be  subordinated,  and  the  best  men  maintained 
that,  by  preserving  the  integrity  of  the  republic,  even 
against  the  wishes  of  an  immense  section  of  the  people, 
they  were  most  truly  serving  the  interests  of  humanity. 
Three  fatal  consequences  would  have  followed  the  tri- 
umph of  the  South.  Slavery  would  have  been  ex- 
tended through  vast  territories  where  it  did  not  hitherto 
prevail.  A  precedent  of  secession  would  have  been  ad- 
mitted which,  sooner  or  later,  would  have  broken  up  the 
United  States  into  several  different  Powers.  And  as 
these  Powers  would  have  many  conflicting  interests,  the 
European  military  system,  which  the  New  World  had 
happily  escaped,  would  have  grown  up  in  America,  with 
all  the  evils  and  all  the  dangers  that  follow  in  its  train. 
The  judgment  of  the  North  was  justified  by  the 
event,  and  this  great  struggle  added  one  more  to  the 
many  conspicuous  instances  of  the  fallibility  of  politi, 

'  This    was     the    Crittenden      150,     254-67.      See,     too,    on 
compromise.   See  Rhodes's  His-      Greeley's  opinion,  pp.  140-42. 
tory  of  the  United   States,   iii. 


490  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  v. 

cal  predictions.  The  overwhelming  majority  of  the 
most  sagacious  politicians  in  Europe  believed,  either 
that  the  North  would  never  attempt  to  restrain  by 
force  the  Southern  States  if  they  desired  to  secede  ;  or 
that  an  armed  revolt  of  many  entire  States,  guided  by 
their  legislatures,  could  not  possibly  be  suppressed ; 
or  that,  if  it  were  suppressed,  it  could  only  be  through 
a  general  rising  of  the  enslaved  negroes,  which  they 
anticipated  as  one  of  the  most  certain  consequences  of 
the  prolongation  of  the  war.  Each  one  of  these  pre- 
dictions was  signally  and  absolutely  falsified.  The 
speedy  and  complete  acquiescence  of  the  defeated  South 
in  the  result  of  the  war  was  no  less  surprising  to  Euro- 
pean statesmen  ;  while  the  fact  that  the  cotton  pro- 
duced in  the  South  by  free  labour  greatly  exceeds  that 
which  was  produced  by  slavery,^  shows  that  the  South- 
ern belief  that  utter  and  imminent  ruin  must  fol- 
low abolition  was  an  absolute  delusion.  How  different 
might  have  been  the  course  of  American  history,  how 
much  bloodshed  and  misery  might  have  been  spared,  if, 
even  at  the  last  moment,  the  policy  proposed  by  Presi- 
dent Lincoln  in  1862  had  been  accepted,  and  the  slave 
States  had  agreed  to  gradual  enfranchisement,  receiv- 
ing Government  bonds  to  the  full  value  of  their  slaves  !  * 
The  regeneration  of  Italy  had  preceded  the  contest 
in  America,  and,  more  than  any  other  event,  it  gave 
popularity  to  the  doctrine  of  the  rights  of  nationalities. 
It  was  one  of  the  most  genuine  of  national  movements, 
and  very  few  who  were  young  men  when  it  took  place, 

'  See  some  remarkable  figures  ed  that  of  the  last  twenty  years 

on  this  subject  in  Mr.  Rhodes's  of  slavery  by  no  less  than  65-3 

History    of  the    United   States  per  cent. 

from   the    Compromise  of  1850  ^Ylhodes's  History  of  the  Uni- 

i.     314.     The    annual    average  ted  States  from  the  Compromise 

produce  of  cotton  in  the  South  of  1850,    iii.    634-35 ;    Annual 

between  1865  and  1886  exceed-  Register^  1862,  p.  231. 


CH.  V.  THE  REGENERATION  OF  ITALY  491 

still  fewer  of  those  who,  like  the  writer  of  these  lines, 
then  lived  much  in  Italy,  can  have  failed  to  catch  the 
enthusiasm  which  it  inspired.  Though  some  provinces 
sacrificed  much,  there  was  no  province  in  which  the 
Italian  cause  did  not  command  the  support  of  over- 
whelming majorities,  and  though  two  great  wars  and 
an  overwhelming  debt  were  the  cost,  the  unity  of  Italy 
was  at  last  achieved.  The  mingled  associations  of  a 
glorious  past  and  of  a  noble  present,  the  genuine  and 
disinterested  enthusiasm  that  so  visibly  pervaded  the 
great  mass  of  the  Italian  people,  the  genius  of  Cavour, 
the  romantic  character  and  career  of  Garibaldi,  and  the 
inexpressible  charm  and  loveliness  of  the  land  which 
was  now  rising  into  the  dignity  of  nationhood,  all  con- 
tributed to  make  the  Italian  movement  unlike  any 
other  of  our  time.  It  was  the  one  moment  of  nine- 
teenth-century history  when  politics  assumed  some- 
thing of  the  character  of  poetry. 

The  glamour  has  now  faded,  and,  looking  back  upon 
the  past,  we  can  more  calmly  judge  the  dubious  ele- 
ments that  mingled  with  it.  One  of  them  was  the 
manner  in  which  the  annexation  of  Naples  was  accom- 
plished. The  expedition  of  Garibaldi  to  Sicily  con- 
sisted of  so  few  men,  and  could  have  been  so  easily 
crushed  if  it  had  encountered  any  real  popular  resist- 
ance, that  it  scarcely  forms  an  exception  to  the  sponta- 
neous character  of  the  movement  towards  unity.  But 
the  absolutely  unprovoked  invasion  of  Naples  by  Pied- 
montese  troops,  which  took  place  without  any  declara- 
tion of  war  when  the  Neapolitan  forces  had  rallied  at 
Gaeta,  and  when  the  Garibaldian  forces  were  in  danger 
of  defeat,  was  a  grave  violation  of  international  obliga- 
tions and  of  the  public  law  and  order  of  Europe,  and 
it  can  only  be  imperfectly  palliated  by  the  fact  that 
similar  interventions  at  the  invitation  of  a  sovereign 


492  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  V. 

and  in  the  interests  of  despotism  had  not  been  uncom- 
mon. 

Much  the  same  thing  may  be  said  of  the  subsequent 
invasion  of  Rome,  and  in  this  case  another  and  still 
graver  consideration  was  involved.  A  great  Catholic 
interest  here  confronted  the  purely  national  move 
ment.  In  the  opinion  of  the  head  of  the  Catholic 
Church,  and  in  the  opinion  of  the  great  body  of  de- 
vout Catholics  throughout  the  world,  the  independence 
of  the  head  of  the  Church  could  only  be  maintained 
if  he  remained  the  temporal  sovereign  of  his  diocese ; 
and  there  was  therefore  a  cosmopolitan  interest  of  the 
highest  order  at  issue.  The  possession  of  Rome  and 
the  adjoining  territory  to  the  sea  would  have  met  the 
Catholic  requirement  for  the  independence  of  the 
Pope,  and  it  was  urged  by  men  who  had  a  warm  gene- 
ral sympathy  with  the  right  of  nations  to  choose  their 
rulers,  that  in  this  case  the  less  must  yield  to  the 
greater,  and  that,  in  the  interest  of  the  whole  Catho- 
lic population  throughout  the  world,  the  small  popula- 
tion of  Rome  and  the  adjoining  territory  must  be 
content  with  a  position  which  was  in  most  respects 
privileged  and  honourable,  and  forego  their  claim  to 
unite  with  Italy. 

Gioberti  had  taught  that  the  true  solution  of  the 
Roman  question  was  an  Italian  federation  under  the 
presidency  of  the  Pope,  and  at  the  Peace  of  Villafranca 
Napoleon  III.  and  the  Emperor  of  Austria  agreed  to  do 
their  utmost  to  carry  out  this  scheme.  It  was,  how- 
ever, from  the  first  doomed  to  failure.  One  part  of  it 
was  the  restoration  of  the  dispossessed  princes,  which 
could  only  be  effected  by  force.  Another  was  the  in- 
troduction of  Austria,  as  the  ruler  of  Venetia,  into  the 
confederation,  which  excited  the  strongest  Italian  an- 
tipathy.    *  The  large  measure  of  reform '  which  the 


CH.  V.  THE  ROMAN  QUESTION  493 

two  Emperors  agreed  to  use  tlieir  influence  to  obtain 
from  the  Pope  proved  wholly  unacceptable  to  that 
potentate,  while  the  honorary  presidency  of  the  con- 
federation, to  which  he  did  not  object,  was  equally  un- 
acceptable to  Italy.  Italian  feeling  flowed  irresistibly 
towards  unity,  and  the  great  prestige  of  Rome,  which 
alone  could  command  an  indisputable  ascendency  among 
the  Italian  cities,  marked  her  out  as  the  natural  capi- 
tal. It  is,  however,  not  altogether  impossible  that 
some  compromise  with  the  Catholic  interest  might 
have  been  effected  if  there  had  been  any  real  intelli- 
gence at  the  Vatican.  Unfortunately,  in  this  quarter 
incapacity  and  obstinacy  reigned  supreme.  The  Pope 
had,  it  is  true,  a  cardinal-minister  who  possessed  to  an 
eminent  degree  the  superficial  talents  that  enable  a 
statesman  to  write  clever  despatches  and  to  conduct 
skilfully  a  diplomatic  interview  ;  but  neither  he  nor 
his  master  showed  the  smallest  real  power  of  governing 
men,  of  measuring  wisely  the  forces  of  their  time,  and 
of  averting  revolution  by  skilful,  timely,  and  searching 
reform. 

The  part  which  was  played  by  England  hi  these 
transactions  was  very  remarkable.  Though  she  had  not 
sacrificed  a  man  or  a  guinea  in  the  cause,  she  inter- 
vened actively  and  powerfully  at  every  stage  of  its  de- 
velopment ;  she  had  always  an  alternative  policy  to 
propose,  and  in  nearly  every  case  this  policy  ultimately 
prevailed.  Lord  John  Russell  conducted  her  foreign 
policy,  and  he  was  warmly  supported  in  the  Cabinet  by 
Lord  Palmerston.  He  dissented  strongly  from  the 
leading  articles  of  the  Peace  of  Villafranca,  and  clearly 
pointed  out  the  impossibility  of  carrying  them  into 
effect.  He  urged  persistently  that  the  Italian  people 
should  be  left  to  form  their  own  Governments  freely, 
without  the  intervention  of  either  France  or  Austria. 


494  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  v. 

He  was  the  only  statesman  who  officially  approved  of 
the  Piedmontese  mvasion  of  Naples,  which  he  defended 
by  a  quotation  from  Vattel,  and  by  the  part  played  by 
William  III.  in  the  English  revolution  of  1688,  He 
steadily  advocated  the  withdrawal  of  French  troops 
from  Kome,  and  the  treatment  of  the  Koman  question 
as  a  purely  Italian  one.  He  exasperated  foreign  states- 
men not  a  little  by  his  constant  lectures  on  '  the  right 
which  belongs  to  the  people  of  every  independent  State 
to  regulate  their  own  internal  government/  and  on  the 
iniquity  of  every  foreign  interference  with  their  clearly 
expressed  will.  '  With  regard  to  the  general  question 
of  interference/  he  wrote,  '  in  the  internal  affairs  of 
other  countries,  Her  Majesty's  Government  holds  that 
non-intervention  is  the  principle  on  which  the  Govern- 
ments of  Europe  should  act,  only  to  be  departed  from 
when  the  safety  of  a  foreign  State  or  its  permanent 
interests  require  it.' ' 

At  the  same  time,  in  the  true  spirit  of  an  English 
Whig,  he  refused  to  lay  any  stress  on  the  verdict  of 
universal  suffrage  as  expressed  by  a  plebiscite,  and  re- 
garded the  regular  vote  of  duly  authorised  representa- 
tive bodies  as  the  only  decisive  and  legitimate  expression 
of  the  voice  of  the  people.  Speaking  of  the  annexation 
to  the  Italian  State  of  Naples,  Sicily,  Umbria  and  the 
Marches,  he  wrote  to  Sir  J.  Hudson  :  *  The  votes  by 
universal  suffrage  which  have  taken  place  in  those 
kingdoms  and  provinces  appear  to  Her  Majesty's  Go- 
vernment to  have  little  validity.  These  votes  are  noth- 
ing more  than  a  formality  following  upon  acts  of 
popular  insurrection,  or  successful  invasion,  or  upon 
treaties,  and  do  not  in  themselves  imply  any  indepen- 


'  See  the  despatches  on  Italy  in  the  second  volume  of  Lord 
Russell's  Speeches  and  Despatches. 


CH.  V.       SUCCESS  OF  ENGLISH  POLICY        495 

dent  exercise  of  the  will  of  the  nation  in  whose  name 
they  are  given.  Should,  however,  the  deliberate  act 
of  the  representatives  of  the  several  Italian  States  .  .  . 
constitute  those  States  into  one  State  in  the  form  of  a 
constitutional  monarchy,  a  new  question  will  arise/  ' 

It  is  probable  that  the  emphasis  with  which  Lord 
John  Russell  dwelt  upon  this  distinction  was  largely 
due  to  the  fact  that  the  annexation  of  Savoy  to  France 
had  been  sanctioned  and  justified  by  a  popular  vote. 
The  British  Government  treated  this  vote  and  the  pre- 
tended popular  wish  with  complete  disdain,  as  a  mere 
device  of  the  two  Governments  concerned,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  veiling  the  character  of  a  secret  and  dangerous 
intrigue  ;  and  Lord  John  Eussell  denounced  the  whole 
transaction  in  language  which  might  easily  have  led  to 
war.  2 

This  policy  undoubtedly  represented  the  predominant 
public  opinion  of  Great  Britain,  and  it  was  eminently 
successful.  In  the  very  critical  state  of  Italian  affairs, 
and  amid  the  strongly  expressed  disapprobation  of  the 
great  Continental  Powers,  the  steady  countenance  and 
moral  support  of  England  gave  both  force  and  respecta- 
bility to  the  Italian  cause,  and  broke  the  isolation  to 
which  it  would  have  otherwise  been  condemned.  The 
obligation  was  fully  felt  and  gratefully  acknowledged  ; 
and  there  is  a  striking  contrast  between  the  extreme 
popularity  of  England  and  the  extreme  unpopularity  of 
France  in  Italy  within  a  few  months,  it  may  be  almost 
said  within  a  few  weeks,  after  Solferino.  The  promise 
that  Italy  should  be  freed  '  from  the  Alps  to  the  Adri- 
atic,' and  uncontrolled  by  any  foreign  Power,  was  fal- 
sified by  the  Peace  of  Villafranca,  which  left  Austria 

'  Lord  J,  Russell  to   Sir  J.  ^  Walpole's  Life  of  Russell^ 

Hudson,  Jan.  21,  1861.  ii.  319-21. 


496  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  v. 

the  mistress  of  Venetia,  and  if  its  provisions  had  been 
carried  out  would  have  made  her  the  dominant  power 
in  the  peninsula.  Imperious  considerations  of  French 
interests  might  be  truly  alleged  to  justify  this  unex- 
pected peace,  but  it  is  not  surprising  that  it  should 
have  sent  a  thrill  of  exasperation  through  the  Italian 
people.  The  claim  of  the  Emperor  on  the  gratitude  of 
the  Italians  was  still  further  weakened  when  he  de- 
manded Nice  and  Savoy  as  a  payment  for  his  services, 
and  his  attempt  to  support  two  great  but  essentially 
incompatible  interests  by  maintaining  with  French 
bayonets  the  dominion  of  the  Pope  at  Rome,  while  he 
acquiesced,  though  slowly  and  reluctantly,  in  the  an- 
nexation of  the  other  portions  of  Italy  to  the  new 
kingdom,  and  in  the  abandonment  of  his  favourite 
scheme  of  an  Italian  federation,  had  the  very  natural 
effect  of  exciting  anger  and  distrust  on  both  sides. 
England,  on  the  other  hand,  had  but  one  voice,  and 
her  simple  policy  of  leaving  Italy,  without  any  foreign 
intervention,  to  construct  her  own  Government  fully 
met  the  Italian  desires. 

History  has  certainly  not  said  her  last  word  about 
Napoleon  III.,  a  sovereign  who  has  of  late  years  been 
as  extravagantly  depreciated  as  he  was  once  extrava- 
gantly extolled.  More  justice  will  one  day  be  done  to 
his  manifest  and  earnest  attempts,  under  circumstances 
of  extreme  difficulty,  to  reconcile  a  great  and  real 
Catholic  interest,  which  was  very  dear  to  a  large  sec- 
tion of  his  subjects,  with  his  earnest  desire  to  free 
Italy  from  foreign  control.  The  obstacles  he  had  to 
encounter  were  enormous :  the  stubborn  resistance  of 
the  Papal  Court  to  the  reforms  and  compromises  he 
recommended  ;  the  furious  indignation  of  French  Ca- 
tholic opinion  at  his  acquiescence  in  the  annexation  of 
Romagna,  Umbria,  and  the  Marches  ;  the  irresistible 


CH.  V.  NAPOLEON  IIL  497 

torrent  of  Italian  opinion  impelling  Italian  policy  in 
the  direction  of  unity.  The  great  Continental  coun- 
tries disapproved  of  his  policy  as  unduly  liberal,  while, 
on  opposite  grounds,  English  disapprobation  greatly 
increased  his  difficulties.  He  desired  manifestly  and 
sincerely  to  withdraw  his  troops  from  Rome,  if  he  could 
do  so  without  destroying  the  temporal  power.  At  one 
moment  he  had  almost  attained  his  end,  and  the  evacu- 
ation was  actually  ordered,  when  Garibaldi's  invasion 
of  Sicily  threw  the  South  of  Italy  into  a  flame,  and 
changed  the  whole  aspect  of  affairs.  Projects  for  estab- 
lishing a  neutral  zone  under  European  guarantee  ;  for 
garrisoning  Rome  with  Neapolitan  troops  ;  for  reor- 
ganising the  Papal  army  on  such  a  scale  that  it  might 
be  sufficient  to  secure  the  independence  of  Rome,  were 
constantly  passing  through  his  mind.  At  one  time  he 
proposed  a  congress  to  deal  with  the  question.  At 
another  he  authorised  and  inspired  a  pamphlet  main- 
taining that  the  city  of  Rome  alone,  without  any  other 
territory,  would  be  sufficient  to  secure  the  independence 
of  the  Pope.  At  another  he  ordered  inquiries  to  be 
made  into  the  government  of  the  city  of  London  by  the 
Lord  Mayor  and  Corporation,  under  the  strange  notion 
that  this  might  furnish  some  clue  for  a  double  Govern- 
ment at  Rome.  The  secret  despatches  of  his  minister, 
which  have  now  been  published,  furnish  a  curious  and 
vivid  picture  of  the  extreme  difficulties  of  his  task,  but 
also,  I  think,  of  the  sincerity  with  which,  amid  many 
hesitations  and  perplexities,  he  endeavoured  to  accom- 
plish it.^ 

History  will  also  pronounce  upon  the  policy  of  Eng- 
land during  this  crisis,  and,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  it 
will  be  less  eulogistic  than  contemporary  English  opin- 


>  Thouvenel,  Le  Secret  de  F Emperewr. 

VOL.  I. 


498  DEMOCRACY  AWD  LIBERTY  ch.  v. 

ion.  It  will  scarcely,  I  think,  approve  of  that  strange 
and  famous  despatch  in  which  Lord  John  Kussell  jus- 
tified the  Piedmontese  invasion  of  Naples,  and  it  may 
well  pronounce  the  Eoman  policy  of  England  to  have 
been  an  unworthy  one,  though  it  was  both  popular 
and  successful.  This  question  was  pre-eminently  one 
on  which  a  great  and  cosmopolitan  Catholic  interest 
had  to  be  weighed  against  a  question  of  nationality, 
and  in  such  a  dispute  the  intervention  of  a  Protestant 
Power  seems  to  me  to  have  been  wholly  unjustifiable. 
The  bitter  resentment  it  excited  among  the  Irish 
Catholics  was,  in  my  opinion,  not  without  foundation. 
Whether  the  unity  of  Italy  has  been  to  the  Italian 
people  the  blessing  that  we  once  believed  may  also  be 
greatly  doubted.  The  political  movements  and  combi- 
nations that  make  most  noise  in  the  world,  and  excite 
the  largest  measure  of  enthusiasm,  are  often  not  those 
which  affect  most  deeply  or  most  beneficially  the  real 
happiness  of  men.  The  elements  of  true  happiness 
are  to  be  found  in  humbler  spheres,  and  are  to  be  esti- 
mated by  other  tests.  Italy  has  had  many  good  for- 
tunes, but  the  peace  which  left  her  with  the  acquisition 
of  Lombardy,  and  the  certainty  before  her  of  another 
great  war  for  the  acquisition  of  Venetia,  was  one  of  the 
chief  disasters  in  her  history.  Proposals,  it  is  true, 
were  then  circulated,  with  some  authority,  for  the  sale 
of  Venetia  by  Austria  to  Italy,  and  if  such  a  sale  had 
been  effected  the  whole  course  of  recent  European 
history  might  have  been  changed.  Italy  might  have 
been  saved  from  financial  ruin,  and  the  financial  posi- 
tion of  Austria  would  have  been  enormously  improved. 
It  would  have  been  possible  for  Austria  to  have  carried 
out  both  more  promptly  and  more  efficiently  her  trans- 
formation into  a  really  constitutional  empire  ;  and  as 
Italy  would  have  had  no  motive  for  joining  with  her 


CH.  V.  TAXATION  IN  ITALY  499 

enemies,  the  War  of   1860   might  either  have  been 
averted,  or  have  ended  differently. 

But  a  false  point  of  honour,  in  which  the  Austrian 
Emperor  undoubtedly  represented  the  prevalent  feeling 
of  his  subjects,  prevented  such  a  cession,  and  opened  a 
new  chapter  of  events  almost  equally  disastrous  to 
Austria  and  to  Italy.  In  the  terrible  years  of  prepara- 
tion for  a  great  war  the  debt  of  Italy  rose  rapidly  to 
unmanageable  dimensions,  and  the  dangers,  the  re- 
sponsibilities, the  gigantic  army  and  navy  of  a  great 
Power,  soon  created  for  her  a  burden  she  was  wholly 
unable  to  bear.  Most  of  the  Italian  States,  before  the 
war  of  independence  began,  were  among  the  most 
lightly  taxed  in  Europe,  but  no  other  European  coun- 
try, in  proportion  to  its  means,  is  now  so  heavily  taxed 
as  Italy.  Those  who  have  observed  the  crushing 
weight  with  which  this  excessive  taxation  falls,  not 
only  on  the  upper  and  middle  classes  of  the  Italian  peo- 
ple, but  also  on  the  food  and  industry  of  the  very  poor, 
the  grinding  poverty  it  has  produced,  and  the  immi- 
nent danger  of  national  bankruptcy  that  hangs  over 
Italy,  may  well  doubt  whether  her  unity  has  not  been 
too  dearly  purchased,  and  whether  Napoleon's  scheme 
of  an  Italian  federation  might  not,  after  all,  have 
proved  the  wiser.  A  very  competent  writer  has  com- 
puted that,  in  the  years  of  perfect  peace  between  1871 
and  1893,  the  taxation  of  Italy  has  increased  more  than 
30  per  cent.  ;  that  the  national  debt  has  been  increased 
in  twenty-three  years  of  peace  by  about  four  milliards 
of  francs,  or  160  millions  of  pounds  ;  and  that  the  inte- 
rest of  this  debt,  without  counting  the  communal  debts 
or  the  floating  debt,  absorbs  one-third  of  the  whole 
revenue. ' 

>  See  Geffcken's  article  on  the  '  War  Chests  of  Europe,'  Nine- 
teenth Century^  August  1894. 


500  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  v. 

It  has  been  truly  claimed,  however,  for  Italy  that 
she  represents  the  triumph  of  the  doctrine  of  nationali- 
ties in  its  best  form.  Nowhere  else  do  so  many  ele- 
ments of  nationality  concur  —  language,  religion,  a 
clearly  defined  geographical  unity,  a  common  litera- 
ture, and  common  sentiments.  In  German  unity 
genuine  sympathy  bore  a  great  part,  but  in  some  por- 
tions of  the  Empire  force  alone  carried  out  the  policy. 
In  some  quarters  race  is  represented  as  the  most  essen- 
tial element  of  nationality,  and  the  doctrine  of  nation- 
ality has  blended  closely  with  a  doctrine  of  races  which 
seems  destined  to  be  a  great  disturbing  influence  in  the 
affairs  of  the  world.' 

The  unity  of  the  Latin  race,  to  be  established  partly 
by  absorptions,  and  partly  by  alliances  in  which  France 
should  hold  the  ruling  place,  was  a  favourite  French 
doctrine  in  the  time  of  Napoleon  III.,  though  it  has 
now  greatly  faded,  owing  to  the  profound  antipathies 
that  divide  France  and  Italy.  Michel  Chevalier,  among 
others,  powerfully  advocated  it ;  it  was  given  as  one 
of  the  chief  reasons  for  the  unfortunate  expedition  to 
Mexico  ;  it  gave  colour  to  French  aspirations  to  do- 
minion both  in  Belgium  and  French  Switzerland  ;  and 
a  school  of  writers  arose  who  represented  the  establish- 
ment of  an  equilibrium  between  the  great  races  as  the 
true  balance  of  power,  the  future  basis  of  international 
politics.  The  unity  of  the  Teutonic  race  has  had  cor- 
responding adherents  in  Germany,  and  their  eyes  have 
been  greedily  cast,  not  only  towards  Austria  and 
towards  Alsace,  but  also  towards  Holland,  towards  the 
German  provinces  of  Belgium,  and  towards  the  Baltic 
provinces.  The  Panslavist  movement  is  the  latest, 
and  perhaps  the  most  dangerous,  on  the  stage,  and  it 


'  See  Revue  de  Droit  International^  iii.  458-63. 


CH.  V.  DOCTRmE  OF  RACES  601 

seeks  the  disintegration  not  only  of  Turkey,  but  of 
Austria.  It  must  be  observed,  too,  that  in  proportion 
to  the  new  stress  given  to  the  claims  of  nationality 
comes  an  increased  desire  among  rulers  to  extirpate  in 
their  dominions  all  alien  national  types,  whether  of 
race,  or  language,  or  creed,  which  may  some  day  be 
called  into  active  existence. 

Few  things  are  more  curious  to  observe  than  the 
conflicting  tendencies  which  are,  in  the  same  period  of 
history,  drawing  nations  in  diametrically  opposite  di- 
rections. The  tendency  to  great  agglomerations  and 
larger  political  unities  has  in  our  day  been  very  evi- 
dent. Railroads,  and  the  many  other  influences  produc- 
ing a  more  rapid  interchange  of  ideas  and  commerce, 
and  more  cosmopolitan  habits  and  manners,  act  strong- 
ly in  this  direction ;  and  the  military  and  naval  sys- 
tems of  our  time  throw  an  overwhelming  power  into 
the  hands  of  the  great  nations.  On  the  other  hand, 
there  has  been  in  many  forms  a  marked  tendency  to 
accentuate  distinct  national  and  local  types. 

It  has  been  very  clearly  shown  in  national  languages. 
As  late  as  the  days  of  Frederick  the  Great,  French  had 
a  complete  ascendency,  even  at  the  Prussian  Court ; 
and  long  after  that  date  it  seemed  in  many  countries 
likely  to  displace  all  local  languages  in  the  common 
usage  of  the  upper  classes.  Nearly  everywhere  this 
tendency  has  been  checked,  and  national  languages 
now  fully  maintain  their  ascendency.  The  late  Queen 
Sophie  of  the  Netherlands  was  accustomed  to  relate 
that,  at  the  time  of  her  marriage  in  1839,  some  of  her 
counsellors  told  her  that  it  was  scarcely  necessary  for 
her  to  learn  Dutch,  as  the  use  of  it  was  so  rapidly 
passing  away  among  the  upper  classes  in  Holland  ;  but 
she  lived  to  see  that  usage  constant  and  universal.  It 
"was,  I  believe,  only  under  Nicholas  that  Russian  super- 


602  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  v. 

seded  French  as  the  Court  language  at  St.  Petersburg, 
and,  according  to  competent  judges,  the  same  change 
has  in  the  present  generation  extended  widely  through 
all  Russian  society.  In  Belgium  there  has  been  a 
marked  and  most  significant  movement  for  maintain- 
ing the  Flemish  language  and  Flemish  nationality ;  a 
similar  tendency  prevails  in  Bohemia  and  Hungary, 
and  even  at  home  it  may  be  seen  in  the  greatly  in- 
creased stress  laid  upon  the  Welsh  language.  The  war 
of  1870  strengthened  it,  and  French  has  lost  much  of 
its  cosmopolitan  character  as  the  language  of  diplo- 
macy, while  no  other  single  language  has  taken  its 
place.  At  no  previous  period,  I  suppose,  has  so  large 
an  amount  of  interest  and  research  been  devoted  to 
the  study  of  local  customs,  literatures,  traditions  and 
antiquities.  Education,  if  it  widens  interests,  also  con- 
tributes to  kindle  political  life  in  small  areas,  and  the 
extension  of  the  suffrage  and  of  local  government,  and 
perhaps  still  more  the  growth  of  a  local  press,  have  all 
their  effect  in  accentuating  local  divisions  and  awaken- 
ing local  aspirations.  The  vast  military  systems  of  the 
Continent  may,  perhaps,  in  some  degree  divert  the 
minds  of  the  great  disciplined  masses  from  internal  and 
constitutional  politics,  and  they  weaken  the  lines  of 
provincial  differences,  but  they  also  bring  into  stronger 
and  sharper  relief  national  distinctions  and  national 
antagonisms. 

Among  the  problems  that  weigh  heavily  on  the  states- 
men of  our  age,  few  are  more  serious  than  those  of 
reconciling  local  and  particularist  aspirations  with  the 
maintenance  of  imperial  strength  and  unity,  and  with 
the  stability  of  European  peace.  In  all  such  questions 
many  various,  and  often  conflicting,  circumstances 
must  be  considered,  and  no  general  and  inflexible  rule 
can  be  laid  down.     England,  in  1864,  made  a  remarka- 


CH.  V.  CONCESSIONS  TO  NATIONALITY  503 

ble  concession  to  the  rights  of  nationalities  when,  in 
response  to  a  strongly  expressed  local  wish,  she  aban- 
doned her  protectorate  over  the  Ionian  Isles  and  per- 
mitted their  annexation  to  Greece.  She  certainly  would 
not  have  acted  in  the  same  way  if  Malta,  or  Ireland,  or 
some  other  vital  portion  of  her  Empire  had  demanded 
to  be  annexed  to  a  foreign  Power.  Every  great  empire 
is  obliged,  in  the  interest  of  its  imperial  unity,  and  in 
the  interest  of  the  public  order  of  the  world,  to  impose 
an  inflexible  veto  on  popular  movements  in  the  direc- 
tion of  disintegration,  however  much  it  may  endeavour 
to  meet  local  wishes  by  varying  laws  and  institutions 
and  compromises.  Nations,  too,  differ  very  widely  in 
the  strength  of  their  national  types,  in  their  power  of 
self-government,  in  their  power  of  governing  others,  in 
their  power  of  assimilating  or  reconciling  alien  types. 
There  are  cases  where  the  destruction  of  an  old  na- 
tionality, or  even  of  a  nationality  which  had  never 
fully  existed,  but  had  been  prematurely  arrested  in  its 
growth,  leaves  behind  it  in  large  .classes  hatreds  which 
rankle  for  centuries.  There  are  other  cases  where,  in 
a  few  years,  a  complete  fusion  is  effected,  where  every 
scar  of  the  old  wound  is  effaced,  where  all  distinctions 
are  obliterated,  or  where  they  subsist  only  in  healthy 
differences  of  type,  tendency,  and  capacity,  which  add 
to  the  resources  without  in  any  degree  impairing  the 
strength  and  harmony  of  the  nation.  There  are  cases 
where  an  extension  of  local  representative  institutions 
will  amply  satisfy  local  aspirations  and  appease  local 
discontents,  and  where  such  institutions  are  certain  to 
be  justly  and  moderately  used.  There  are  other  cases 
where  they  would  be  infallibly  turned  into  instru- 
ments for  revolution,  plunder,  and  oppression,  where 
they  would  only  increase  dissension,  and  perhaps  lead 
to  civil  war. 


604  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  v. 

All  these  elements  of  tlie  problem  must,  in  each 
separate  case,  be  duly  estimated.  On  the  whole,  the 
doctrine  of  the  absolute  and  indefeasible  right  of  na- 
tionalities to  determine  their  own  form  of  government 
seems  to  me  now  less  prominent  among  the  political 
ideas  of  the  world  than  it  was  in  1848,  and  at  the  period 
of  the  emancipation  of  Italy.  Both  England  and 
America  have  learnt,  from  their  own  experience,  the 
dangers  that  may  spring  from  its  too  unqualified  asser- 
tion ;  Eastern  Europe  has  shown  how  easily  it  may  be 
converted  into  an  instrument  of  aggression  and  in- 
trigue ;  and  the  institution  of  the  plebiscite  has  been 
much  discredited  since  the  fall  of  the  second  French 
Empire.  France  was  once  the  most  ardent  champion 
of  this  doctrine  in  its  extreme  form,  partly,  perhaps, 
because  her  own  territory  is  singularly  compact,  homo- 
geneous, and  well  assimilated ;  but  since  1870  her  as- 
pirations and  alliances  have  carried  her  in  very  different 
directions.  At  the  same  time,  the  movement  towards 
international  Socialism,  which  has  spread  widely  through 
the  working  classes  of  the  Continent,  is  wholly  alien  to 
the  idea  of  nationality,  appeals  to  a  different  kind  of 
enthusiasm,  and  seeks  to  divide  the  world  by  other 
lines.  The  chief  apparent  exception  has  been  the 
greatly  increased  importance  which  the  Irish  Home 
Rule  movement  has  assumed  since  the  Irish  suffrage 
was  so  extended  as  to  give  an  overwhelming  power  to 
the  lowest  orders,  since  Parnell  organised  his  agitation, 
and  since  Mr.  Gladstone  accepted  his  demands.  But 
the  nation,  in  1886  and  1895,  condemned  this  policy 
with  an  emphasis  that  it  is  impossible  to  mistake  ;  nor 
would  the  movement  in  Ireland  ever  have  attained  its 
formidable  magnitude  if  it  had  not  allied  itself  with 
motives  and  interests  very  different  from  the  pure  na- 
tionalism of  Grattan  and  of  Davis. 


OH.  VI.      DIFFERING  CONCEPTIONS  OF  LIBERTY  605 


CHAPTER  VI 

DEMOCRACY  AND   RELIGIOUS  LIBERTY 

There  are  few  subjects  upon  which  mankind  in  dif- 
ferent ages  and  countries  have  differed  more  widely 
than  in  their  conceptions  of  liberty,  and  in  the  kinds 
of  liberty  which  they  principally  value  and  desire. 
Even  in  our  own  day,  and  among  civilised  nations, 
these  differences  are  enormously  great.  There  are  vast 
countries  where  the  forms  of  liberty  to  which  the  Eng- 
lish race  are  most  passionately  attached,  and  which 
they  have  attained  by  the  most  heroic  and  persistent 
efforts,  would  appear  either  worthless  or  positively  evil. 
There  are  nations  who  would  recoil  with  horror  from 
the  unlimited  liberty  of  religious  discussion  and  pro- 
pagandism  which  has  become  the  very  life-breath  of 
modern  Englishmen  ;  wiio  care  little  or  nothing  for  the 
unrestricted  right  of  public  meeting  and  political  writ- 
ing ;  who  deem  complete  commercial  liberty,  with  its 
corollary  of  unrestricted  competition,  an  evil  rather 
than  a  good  ;  who  regard  the  modern  relaxations  of 
the  restrictions  of  creed  or  sex  in  employments  and  ap- 
pointments as  subversive  of  the  best  moral  elements 
in  the  community,  and  in  whose  eyes  an  Englishman's 
absolute  right  to  bequeath  his  property  as  he  wills  is 
the  source  of  enormous  injustice.  In  some  Western, 
and  in  nearly  all  Eastern  nations,  good  administration 
is  far  more  valued  than  representation,  and  provided 
men  can  obtain  a  reasonable  amount  of  order,  peace. 


506  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  en.  vi. 

security,  and  prosperity  at  a  moderate  charge,  provided 
their  habits  and  religions  are  undisturbed,  they  care 
very  little  by  whom  or  in  what  way  their  rulers  are  ap- 
pointed, and  gladly  dismiss  the  whole  subject  of  poli- 
tics from  their  thoughts. 

On  the  other  hand,  numerous  restraints,  prohibitions 
and  punishments  exist  in  England,  and  are  strongly 
supported  by  English  opinion,  which  would  in  other 
zones  of  thought  be  bitterly  resented.  It  would  seem, 
in  many  countries,  a  monstrous  tyranny  that  poor 
parents  should  be  compelled  to  send  their  children  to 
school,  and  should  be  fined  by  a  magistrate  if  they  kept 
them  at  home  in  times  when  they  most  needed  their 
services.  The  English  Sunday  wears  to  many  Conti- 
nental minds  at  least  as  repulsive  an  aspect  as  the  Star 
Chamber  would  wear  to  a  modern  Englishman.  That 
a  man  who  wished  to  work  on  that  day  should  not  be 
allowed  to  do  so  ;  that  a  struggling  shopkeeper  should 
be  forbidden,  if  he  desired  it,  to  open  his  shop  ;  that  a 
farmer  should  be  prevented  from  reaping  his  own  har- 
vest when  every  fine  day  is  of  vital  consequence  to  his 
interests  ;  that  poor  men  should  be  excluded  by  law  on 
their  one  holiday  from  their  place  of  meeting  and  re- 
freshment ;  that  nearly  all  forms  of  amusement,  and 
even  most  of  the  public  picture  galleries,  museums, 
and  libraries  should  be  closed  on  the  day  on  which  they 
could  give  the  widest  pleasure,  would  seem  to  many 
quite  as  serious  an  infringement  of  liberty  as  those  acts 
against  which  Magna  Charta  and  the  Bill  of  Eights 
were  directed. 

A  severity  of  censorship  is  maintained  in  England, 
with  the  full  sanction  of  public  opinion,  over  theatres 
and  music-halls,  and  over  most  forms  of  gambling, 
which  in  some  parts  of  the  Continent  would  excite 
at  least  as  much  discontent  as  a   censorship  of  the 


CH.  VI.         EESl^ICTIONS  AND  PROHIBITIONS  607 

Press.  To  a  man  of  Spanish  blood,  a  legal  prohibition 
of  bull-fights  would  probably  appear  quite  as  oppres- 
sive as  a  restriction  of  his  electoral  rights,  and  a  very 
similar  sentiment  has  of  late  years  grown  up  in  a  great 
part  of  the  South  of  France.  If  this  example  may  be 
thought  an  extreme  one,  it  is  at  least  certain  that  on 
the  whole  subject  of  the  treatment  of  animals  English 
opinion  and  practice  differ  enormously  from  the  gene- 
ral Continental  standard  in  the  number  and  the  severity 
of  their  restrictions.  In  no  other  country  are  scien- 
tific experiments  on  living  animals  restrained  by  law, 
and  in  most  countries  public  opinion  would  be  wholly 
against  such  legislation.  A  special  Act  of  Parliament 
makes  it  in  England  a  criminal  offence  to  yoke  a  dog 
to  a  cart,^  which  in  Holland,  Belgium,  and  many  other 
very  civilised  countries  is  done  every  day,  without  ex- 
citing the  smallest  disapprobation.  The  manufacture 
of  '  p^te  de  foie  gras,'  which  is  accomplished  by  arti- 
ficially producing  a  disease,  is  an  important  industry  in 
France  and  Germany  ;  it  would  probably  be  suppressed 
in  England  by  law,  and  what  in  other  countries  is  con- 
sidered the  very  ordinary  process  of  dishorning  cattle 
has  been  pronounced,  though  with  some  conflict  of 
judicial  opinion,  to  be  illegal. 

Laws  against  wanton  cruelty  to  animals  exist  in  most 
countries,  but  in  their  scope,  their  stringency,  and  ab6ve 
all  in  their  administration,  there  is  an  immense  differ- 
ence between  England  and  the  Continent.  An  amount 
of  over-driving,  over-working,  and  other  ill-treatment 
of  animals  ^  which  in  most  countries — certainly  in  most 


'  17  &  18  Vict.  c.  60,  s.  2.  be  arrested  and  brought  before 

*  E.g..^  England  is,  I  suppose,  a    magistrate   because   she  has 

the    only   country    in    Europe  carried   her    fowls    to    market 

where  a  peasant  woman  may  with  their  heads  downwards. 


008  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  vi. 

Southern  countries — does  not  excite  any  reprobation  or 
attention  is  in  England  punishable  by  law.  In  France 
there  is  the  well-known  Grammont  law,  which  was  en- 
acted in  1850,  for  the  protection  of  animals.  But  it  is 
confined  to  domestic  animals  which  are  '  publicly  and 
abusively '  treated  :  it  is  clearly  laid  down  by  French 
lawyers  that  it  gives  no  inquisitorial  power  of  interfer- 
ing with  what  is  done  in  a  private  house,  or  court,  or 
garden  ;  it  can  only  be  put  in  force  by  public  func- 
tionaries, and  its  penalties  range  from  a  fine  of  5  to  15 
francs,  or  a  maximum  sentence  of  five  days  of  prison.* 
In  England  the  corresponding  penalty  is  two  months* 
imprisonment,  there  is  no  exception  of  acts  done  in 
private  houses,  and  private  persons  may  put  the  law 
in  force.  Few  societies  are  more  warmly  supported  in 
England  than  one  which  annually  prosecutes  about 
6,000  persons,  chiefly  very  poor  men,  for  offences 
against  animals,  the  immense  majority  of  which  would 
be  on  the  Continent  unpunished,  and  probably  even 
unblamed.  At  the  same  time,  there  are  few  countries 
in  the  civilised  world  in  which  the  killing  of  ani- 
mals enters  so  largely  as  in  England  into  the  amuse- 
ments of  the  upper  and  middle  classes  of  society,  and 
lines  of  distinction  are  drawn  which,  though  fully  re- 
cognised by  English  opinion,  would  in  many  countries 
be  resented.  The  magistrate  who  sends  a  poor  man  to 
prison  for  taking  part  in  a  cock-fight  or  a  dog-fight, 
for  baiting  a  badger  or  worrying  a  cat,  very  probably 
protects  his  own  game  by  setting  steel  traps  for  vermin 
and  strychnine  for  stray  dogs,  and  takes  part  without 
reproach  in  a  coursing  match,  a  stag  hunt,  or  a  battue. 
A  similar  contrast  may  be  found  in  other  fields.     In 

'  The  questions  raised  in  con-  A.  Guilbon,  Des  mauvais  traite- 
nection  with  the  Grammont  law  ments  enters  les  animaux  do- 
have  been  treated  in  full  by  N.      mestiques. 


CH.  VI.  RESTRICTIONS  AND  PROHIBITIONS  509 

the  English  marriage  law-there  is  at  least  one  restric- 
tion on  the  contraction  of  marriages,  and  there  are 
many  restrictions  on  the  dissolution  of  unhappy  mar- 
riages which  nearly  all  other  Protestant  countries  have 
abolished.  The  licensing  laws,  the  factory  laws,  the 
laws  on  sanitation,  bristle  with  restrictions  and  penal 
clauses  that  in  many  other  countries  are  unknown,  and 
there  are  great  communities  in  which  the  law  which 
treats  attempted  suicide  as  a  crime  would  be  deemed 
a  violation  of  natural  freedom.  Political  freedom  and 
social  freedom  do  not  necessarily  go  together,  and  it 
will  often  be  found  that  restraints  and  prohibitions 
are  being  multiplied  in  one  department  while  they  are 
being  relaxed  or  abolished  in  another.  It  is  probable 
that  the  lives  of  men  were  more  variously  and  severely 
restricted  under  the  censorship  of  the  Roman  republic 
than  under  the  tyranny  of  the  Caesars  ;  under  the  rule 
of  the  Puritans  during  the  Commonwealth,  or  in  Scot- 
land and  New  England,  than  in  many  of  the  despotisms 
of  the  Continent. 

These  few  examples  may  illustrate  the  variety  and 
the  difficulty  of  the  subject,  and  it  may  not  be  a  use- 
less thing  to  take  stock  of  our  present  conceptions 
of  liberty,  to  observe  the  changes  that  are  passing  over 
them,  and  to  ascertain  in  what  directions  modern  legis- 
lation and  opinion  are  realising,  enlarging,  or  abridg- 
ing them. 

One  most  important  form  of  liberty,  which  in  our 
generation  has  been  almost  completely  achieved,  both 
in  England  and  in  most  foreign  countries,  has  been 
religious  liberty.  In  England,  at  least,  complete 
liberty  of  worship  and  of  opinion  had  been  practically 
attained  in  1813,  when  Unitarians  at  last  received  the 
legal  recognition  which  had  long  been  granted  to  other 
Dissenters.     It  is  true  that,  if  we  looked  only  on  the 


510  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  VL 

letter  of  tlie  law,  this  statement  would  not  be  absolute- 
ly true.  A  number  of  wholly  obsolete  laws  directed 
against  Roman  Catholics,  or  against  those  who  ab- 
stained from  the  Anglican  service,  were  only  repealed 
in  1844  and  1846.^  Unrepealed  clauses  in  the  Catholic 
Emancipation  Act  of  1829  even  now  make  it  an  offence 
punishable  by  banishment  for  life  for  Jesuits,  or  mem- 
bers of  other  male  religious  communities,  to  come  into 
the  kingdom,  and  for  any  person  in  England  to  join 
such  bodies,  or  to  introduce  others  into  them  ;  ^  and 
an  Act  of  William  III.  is  still  on  the  Statute  Book,  ac- 
cording to  which,  in  the  opinion  of  very  competent 
lawyers,  the  gravest  and  most  solid  works  impugning 
the  Christian  religion  and  the  Divine  authority  of  the 
Old  and  New  Testaments  might  be  made  subjects  for 
prosecutions.^  These  laws,  however,  have  become  en- 
tirely obsolete,  and  it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  every 
form  of  religious  worship  which  does  not  directly  of- 
fend morality,  and  every  form  of  religious  opinion 
which  is  expressed  in  serious  and  decent  language,  are, 
in  England,  perfectly  unrestricted. 

The  practice  of  the  law  is  in  this  respect  fully  sup- 
ported by  public  opinion.  No  change  in  English  life 
during  the  latter  half  of  the  nineteenth  century  is 
more  conspicuous  than  the  great  enlargement  of  the 
range  of  permissible  opinions  on  religious  subjects. 
Opinions  and  arguments  which  not  many  years  ago 
were  confined  to  small  circles  and  would  have  drawn 


'  7  &  8  Vict.  c.  102 ;    9  &  10  vrere  only  required  to  register 

Vict.  c.  59.  themselves.      A    Secretary    of 

^  10  George  IV.  c.  7,  ss.  28-  State  might  also  give  other 
34.  There  was  an  exception  in  Jesuits  a  special  license  to  re- 
favour  of  natural-born  subjects  main  in  England  for  not  longer 
who  had  been  Jesuits  or  mem-  than  six  months, 
bers  of  other  religious  orders  ^  Stephen's  History  of  the 
before  the  Act  passed,  and  who  Criminal  Law,  ii.  468-76. 


CH.  VL  SIGNED  ARTICLES  611 

down  grave  social  penalties,  have  become  the  common- 
places of  the  drawing-room  and  of  the  boudoir.  The 
first  very  marked  change  in  this  respect  followed,  I 
think,  the  publication  in  1860  of  the  '  Essays  and  Ee- 
views,'  and  the  effect  of  this  book  in  making  the  reli- 
gious questions  which  it  discussed  familiar  to  the  great 
body  of  educated  men  was  probably  by  far  the  most 
important  of  its  consequences.  The  power  and  popu- 
larity of  the  works  of  Buckle  and  Renan;  the  long 
controversies  that  followed  Bishop  Colenso's  criticism 
on  the  Pentateuch  ;  the  writings  of  Darwin,  and  their 
manifest  bearing  on  the  received  theologies ;  the 
gradual  infiltration  into  England  of  the  results  that 
had  been  arrived  at  by  the  Biblical  critics  of  Germany 
and  Holland,  have  all  had  a  powerful  influence,  and 
the  tendency  has  been  greatly  accelerated  by  the  fashion, 
which  sprang  up  in  England  in  1865,  of  publishing 
magazines  consisting  of  signed  articles  by  men  of  most 
various  and  opposing  opinions.  The  old  type  of  maga- 
zine represented  a  single  definite  school  of  thought, 
and  it  was  read  chiefly  by  those  who  belonged  to  that 
school.  The  new  type  appeals  to  a  much  larger  and 
more  varied  circle,  and  its  editors  soon  discovered  that 
few  things  were  more  acceptable  to  their  readers  than 
a  full  discussion  by  eminent  men  of  the  great  problems 
of  natural  and  revealed  religion.  Opinions  the  most 
conservative  and  the  most  negative  appeared  side  by  side, 
were  read  together,  and  are  now  habitually  found  in  the 
drawing-rooms  of  men  of  the  most  different  opinions. 

Custom  so  soon  establishes  its  empire  over  men  that 
we  seldom  realise  the  greatness  and  the  significance  of 
this  change.  Every  Church — even  the  most  intolerant 
one — seems  to  have  accepted  it  in  England.  On  hardly 
any  subject  has  the  Church  of  Rome  been  more  impe- 
rative than  in  her  efforts  to  prevent  her  members  from 


612  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  VL 

coming  in  contact  with  any  form  of  heterodox  opinion. 
Many  of  my  readers  will  probably  remember  how,  to 
the  very  end  of  the  temporal  power  of  the  Pope,  Eng- 
lish newspapers  and  magazines  at  Kome  were  subject 
to  a  stringent  censorship,  and  continually  arrived  with 
whole  passages  carefully  excised,  lest  anything  incon- 
sistent with  the  doctrines  of  the  Church  should  pene- 
trate into  Kome,  even  in  a  foreign  tongue  and  to  a 
stranger  community.  In  French  Canada,  where  the 
old  spirit  of  Catholicism  probably  retains  a  stronger 
hold  over  the  people  than  in  any  other  country,  a 
stringent  censorship  of  the  Press  is  still  maintained. 
In  1869  there  was  a  case,  which  excited  much  atten- 
tion in  England,  of  a  Canadian  who  was  excommuni- 
cated and  denied  Christian  burial  because  he  had  been 
a  member  of  a  Canadian  institute  which  had  refused  to 
exclude  from  its  library  books  and  journals  disapproved 
of  by  the  Church.  A  pamphlet  published  by  a  leading 
member  of  that  institute  in  defence  of  its  policy  was 
condemned  in  such  terms  that  every  Catholic  who, 
after  being  properly  warned,  retained  it  in  his  house 
could  only  be  absolved  by  the  bishop  or  his  vicars- 
general.  As  recently  as  1892  a  sentence  was  read  in  all 
the  Canadian  Catholic  churches  forbidding,  under  pen- 
alty of  refusal  of  the  Sacraments,  any  Catholic  to  print, 
sell,  distribute,  read,  or  possess  two  Catholic  journals 
which  had  offended  the  bishop.  Their  offence  appears 
to  have  been  that  they  had  published  and  commented 
on  a  gross  instance  of  clerical  immorality  which  had 
been  clearly  proved,  and  that  one  of  them  had  proposed 
to  publish  'Les  Trois  Mousquetaires '  of  Alexandre 
Dumas.*     In  England,  there  are  probably  few  houses 

'  Goldwin  Smith's  Canada^  There  has  been  a  more  recent 
p.  15.  See,  too,  a  Canadian  case  of  a  Catholic  bishop  in 
book,  Doutre,  Ruines  Clericales.      Ireland    excommunicating     the 


CH.  VI.         PROGRESS  OP  RELIGIOUS  LIBERTY  613 

of  the  Catholic  gentry  where  periodicals  may  not  be 
found  in  which  men  like  Herbert  Spencer  and  Huxley 
expound  their  views  with  perfect  frankness.  Among 
the  contributors  to  these  magazines  there  have  been  at 
least  two  cardinals  and  many  other  Catholic  divines. 

Men  will  differ  much  about  the  good  and  evil  result- 
ing from  this  fact ;  but  it  at  least  indicates  a  great 
change  of  public  feeling  in  the  direction  of  religious 
liberty,  and  it  is  in  the  highest  degree  improbable 
that  in  England,  and  in  most  of  the  leading  countries 
of  the  world,  theological  opinions  could  be  again  re- 
pressed on  the  ground  of  their  theological  error.  It  is 
possible,  however,  for  religious  expression  and  worship 
to  be  unfettered,  but  at  the  same  time  for  its  professors 
to  be  gravely  injured  by  disqualifications  and  disabili- 
ties. In  the  full  concession  of  political  rights  to  Non- 
conforming bodies,  England  has  been  much  behind 
some  other  nations.  The  United  States  led  the  way, 
and  one  of  the  articles  of  its  Constitution  declared  in 
clear,  noble,  and  comprehensive  language,  that  '  no 
religious  test  shall  ever  be  required  as  a  qualification  to 
any  office  or  public  trust  under  the  United  States. "*  In 
the  words  of  Judge  Story,  '  The  Catholic  and  the  Pro- 
testant, the  Calvinist  and  the  Arminian,  the  Jew  and 
the  infidel,  may  sit  down  at  the  common  table  of  the 
national  councils  without  any  inquisition  into  their 
faith  or  mode  of  worship.'^  In  France,  though  gross 
religious  intolerance  accompanied  and  followed  the 
Revolution,  the  general  principle  of  severing  political 
privileges  from  theological  beliefs  was  at  least  clearly 
laid  down.  In  1789  the  National  Assembly  threw  open 
all  civil  and  military  posts  and  privileges  to  Protestants, 
and  in  1791  to  Jews ;  and,  in  spite  of  the  many  vicis- 

Jeaders  of  a  newspaper  of  which  '  Story  On  the  Constitution^ 
ne  disapproved.  ill.  731. 

VOL.  I.  33 


514  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  vi. 

situdes  which  French  government  afterwards  experi- 
enced, these  privileges  were  never  serioasly  infringed. 
It  was  a  significant  fact  that  the  Jew  Cremieux  was  a 
member  of  the  Provisional  Government  of  1848.  The 
Belgian  Constitution  of  1831  followed  the  example  of 
the  United  States,  and  gave  Belgians  of  all  creeds  ab- 
solute religious  freedom  and  full  constitutional  privi- 
leges. Prussia  was  and  is  a  very  conservative  country, 
but  in  the  Constitution  of  1850  it  was  expressly  pro- 
vided that  civil  and  political  rights  were  independent 
of  religious  beliefs. 

In  England,  it  is  somewhat  humiliating  to  observe 
how  slowly  this  constitutional  equality  was  attained. 
By  an  Irish  Act  of  1793,  and  by  English  Acts  of  1813 
and  1817,  all  ranks  of  the  army  and  navy  were  gradu- 
ally opened  to  Catholics  and  Dissenters  ;  while  the  abo- 
lition of  Test  and  Corporation  Acts  in  1828  placed 
Protestant  Dissenters  on  an  equality  with  the  members 
of  the  Established  Church  in  corporate  and  civil  offices. 
Then  followed  the  Catholic  Emancipation  Act  of  1829, 
and  in  1833  and  1838  Acts  were  carried  permitting 
Quakers,  Moravians,  and  some  other  persons  who  object- 
ed to  swearing,  to  substitute  in  all  cases  an  affirmation 
for  an  oath.  The  conflict  about  the  emancipation  of  the 
Jews  raged  long  and  fiercely  ;  but  in  1839  they  were 
permitted  to  take  oaths  in  the  form  that  was  binding 
on  their  consciences,  in  1845  they  were  admitted  into 
corporate  offices,  in  1858  they  made  tlieir  way  into  the 
House  of  Commons,  and  at  a  much  later  period  a  dis- 
tinguished living  Jew  has  been  raised  to  the  peer- 
age and  made  Lord  Lieutenant  of  his  county.  The 
admission,  after  a  long  struggle,  to  the  House  of 
Commons  of  an  avowed  atheist,  in  the  person  of  Mr. 
Bradlangh,  completed  the  work  of  abolishing  reli- 
gious disqualifications  in  England. 


CH.  VI.         PROGRESS  OF  RELIGIOUS  LIBERTY  515 

I  do  not  include  in  the  struggle  for  religious  li- 
berty such  measures  as  the  abolition  of  compulsory 
Church  rates,  the  disestablishment  and  disendow- 
ment  of  the  Irish  Church,  the  alterations  that  have 
been  effected  in  the  law  of  tithes.  These  seem  to  me 
to  belong  to  a  different  category,  and  must  be  regarded 
as  episodes  in  the  conflict  between  the  supporters  and 
opponents  of  an  established  Church.  Among  the  great 
achievements  of  religious  liberty,  however,  may  un- 
doubtedly be  counted  the  important  measure  carried 
by  Lord  John  Kussell  in  1836,  enabling  Dissenters  to 
celebrate  their  marriages  in  their  own  chapels  and  by 
their  own  rites,  and  establishing  a  system  of  civil  mar- 
riage for  those  who  desired  it,  and  also  a  comprehensive 
and  secular  system  for  the  registration  of  births,  deaths, 
and  marriages.  To  the  same  class  belongs  the  Act  of 
1870  permitting  scrupulous  unbelievers,  who  rejected 
all  forms  of  oath,  to  give  evidence  in  the  law  courts  on 
affirmation,  the  penalty  of  perjury  being  still  retained 
as  a  protection  against  false  witness.  The  measure  of 
1880,  also,  which,  following  a  precedent  that  had  long 
been  established  in  Ireland,  permitted  Nonconformist 
burial  services  and  burials  without  religious  services  in 
parish  churchyards,  was  partly,  but  not  wholly,  in- 
spired by  hostility  to  the  Established  Church.  In 
many  instances  a  deeper  and  holier  feeling  made  Non- 
conformists wish  to  be  laid  at  rest  with  parents  or  an- 
cestors of  the  established  faith,  and  in  country  districts, 
where  no  other  burial-places  existed,  it  was  a  real  griev- 
ance that  Nonconformist  burials  could  only  be  effected 
with  an  Anglican  service. 

The  most  important,  however,  of  all  modern  con- 
quests of  religious  liberty  have  been  those  which  placed 
at  the  disposal  of  men  of  all  creeds  the  best  education 
the  nation  could  afford.     The  great  work  of  the  estab- 


516  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  vi. 

lishment  of  undenominational  primary  education  in 
England  will  be  hereafter  considered.  Its  accomplish- 
ment had  been  preceded  by  that  ^ong  and  arduous 
struggle  for  the  admission  of  Nonconformists  to  the 
studies,  degrees,  and  emoluments  of  the  English  uni- 
versities which  forms  one  of  the  noblest  pages  in  the 
history  of  the  Liberal  party,  when  English  Liberalism 
was  at  its  best.  The  rise  of  the  High  Church  party  in 
1833  greatly  retarded  it,  and  to  the  last  that  party 
strained  every  effort  to  close  the  doors  of  higher  edu- 
cation against  all  who  refused  to  accept  the  Anglican 
creed.  The  same  spirit  that  led  ecclesiastics  in  the 
eighteenth  century,  in  the  interests  of  their  monopoly, 
to  defend  the  law  which  degraded  the  sacrament  into 
an  office  test,  still  prevailed,  and  the  scandalously  pro- 
fane system  of  compelling  boys  fresh  from  school  to 
purchase  their  ladmission  into  Oxford  by  signing  the 
Thirty-nine  Articles,  which  not  one  in  a  hundred  had 
seriously  studied,  was  strenuously  supported.  Dublin 
University  has  the  honourable  distinction  of  having 
long  preceded  the  English  universities  in  the  patli  of 
true  Liberalism,  for  even  before  1793  Catholics  and 
Nonconformists  were  admitted  among  its  students,  and 
after  1793  they  were  admitted  to  its  degrees,  though 
not  to  its  scholarships  and  fellowships.  In  the  Scotch 
Universities,  also,  there  was  no  religious  test  against 
Dissenters.  In  Cambridge,  Nonconformists  might 
become  students,  but  no  one  could  obtain  a  degree 
without  subscribing  the  Thirty-nine  Articles.  At 
Oxford,  Nonconformists  were  repelled  on  the  very 
threshold,  for  the  subscription  was  exacted  at  matricu- 
lation. English  Dissenters  were  not  only  excluded 
from  the  inestimable  advantage  of  higher  education, 
and  from  the  many  great  prizes  connected  with  the 
universities — they  were  also  seriously  impeded,  by  the 


CH.  VI.         RELIGIOUS  TESTS  IN  UNIVERSITIES  517 

want  of  a  university  degree,  in  their  subsequent  pro* 
fessional  careers. 

This  last  grievance  was  removed  by  the  foundation 
of  the  London  University  in  1836.  Being  a  mere  ex- 
amining body,  it  could  not  offer  the  teaching  advan- 
tages, nor  did  it  possess  the  splendid  prizes,  of  the 
older  universities  ;  but  it  at  least  conferred  degrees 
which  were  highly  valued,  and  which  were  encumbered 
oy  no  theological  test.  Measures  for  opening  Oxford 
and  Cambridge  to  the  Dissenters  were  again  and  again 
introduced  by  Liberal  ministers,  again  and  again  car- 
ried in  the  Commons,  again  and  again  rejected  in  the 
Lords.  In  1854,  Nonconformists  were  allowed  to  ob- 
tain the  B.A.  degree  in  the  old  English  universities, 
but  they  could  not  obtain  higher  degrees,  and  although 
they  might  compete  at  examinations  for  the  great  uni- 
versity prizes,  they  could  not  enjoy  them.  At  last,  in 
1871,  a  great  measure  of  enfranchisement,  which  was 
originally  placed  in  the  hands  of  Mr.  Coleridge,  and 
had  failed  five  times  in  the  Lords,  became  law,  opening 
nearly  all  offices  and  degrees  in  the  universities  with- 
out theological  restriction.  Seven  years  later  the  few 
remaining  distinctions,  with  the  very  proper  exception 
of  degrees  and  professorships  of  divinity,  were  abo- 
lished by  a  Conservative  Government.  In  Dublin 
University,  the  grievance  of  the  restriction  of  fellow- 
ships and  scholarships  to  members  of  the  Established 
Church  was  mitigated  in  1854  by  the  institution  of 
non-foundation  scholarships  open  to  all  creeds,  and  the 
whole  body  of  the  remaining  restrictions  was  swept 
away  by  the  Act  of  1873.  There  is  still,  it  is  true, 
a  Divinity  School  in  Trinity  College  for  the  benefit 
of  candidates  for  orders  in  the  Protestant  Episcopal 
Church.  It  corresponds  to  Maynooth,  which  is  exclu- 
sively devoted  to  the  education  of  priests,  and  which 


518  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  en.  vt 

was  set  up  and  established  by  a  large  expenditure 
of  public  money.  But,  with  the  exception  of  the  di- 
vinity professorships  connected  with  this  school,  every 
post  in  the  great  Irish  university,  from  the  highest  to 
the  lowest,  is  now  open  to  the  members  of  all  reli- 
gious creeds. 

The  long  delay  in  opening  the  English  universities 
to  Dissenters  has  been  a  great  misfortune.  It  shut  out 
whole  generations  from  one  of  the  best  boons  that  a 
nation  could  offer  to  her  children.  It  added  some- 
thing to  the  acerbity  and  much  to  the  narrowness  of 
the  Nonconformist  spirit,  and  the  unworthy  and  re- 
actionary attitude  of  the  House  of  Lords  on  this  and 
on  kindred  religious  questions  contributed  perhaps 
more  than  any  other  cause  to  alienate  from  that 
House  the  Liberal  sentiment  of  England.  The  evils 
resulting  from  that  alienation  are  very  great,  though 
there  are  clear  recent  signs  that  it  has  been  diminish- 
ing. The  battle  of  religious  disqualification  is  now 
substantially  won.  The  balance  of  power  has  shifted. 
Other  questions  have  arisen,  and  the  dangers  to  be 
feared  and  to  be  guarded  against  lie  in  other  directions. 
But  the  bias  that  was  formed,  the  passions  that  were 
generated  by  bygone  contests,  are  not  wholly  extinct, 
and  they  make  it  more  difficult  to  save  the  State  from 
the  dangers  of  an  unbridled  democracy. 

In  the  universities,  the  evils  that  were  predicted 
from  the  abolition  of  tests  have  never  taken  place. 
Many  and  various  opinions  are  openly  avowed,  and 
truth  has  gained  much  by  the  avowal  ;  but  the  reli- 
gious sentiment  has  not  decayed,  and  it  is  certainly  not 
less  genuine  because  it  is  no  longer  fortified  by  privi- 
lege, or  connected  with  interested  and  hypocritical  as- 
sents. While  the  foundation  by  private  munificence 
of  denominational  colleges  within  an  unsectarian  nni- 


CH.  VI.     EFFECT  OF  ABOLITION  OF  TESTS       519 

versity  has  preserved  the  best  features  of  the  old  system, 
the  juxtaposition  of  opposing  creeds  has  produced  no 
disorder,  and  university  sentiment  speedily  accepted 
the  changed  situation.  It  was  once  my  privilege  to 
receive  an  honorary  degree  from  the  University  of  Ox- 
ford in  company  with  a  great  and  venerable  writer, 
who  had  long  been  the  most  illustrious  figure  in  Eng- 
lish Unitarianism,  as  well  as  one  of  the  chief  defenders 
of  a  spiritualist  philosophy.  I  can  well  remember  the 
touching  language  in  which  Dr.  Martineau  then  de- 
scribed the  dark  shadow  which  his  exclusion  on  account 
of  his  faith  from  English  university  life  had  thrown 
over  his  youth,  and  the  strange  feeling  with  which  he 
found  himself  entering,  at  the  age  of  eighty,  an  ho- 
noured and  invited  member,  where  fifty  or  sixty  years 
before  he  and  all  other  Dissenters  had  been  so  rigidly 
proscribed. 

The  force  and  steadiness  of  the  current  which  has, 
during  the  last  half-century,  been  moving  in  the  di- 
rection of  the  establishment  of  religious  liberty  and  of 
the  abolition  of  religious  disqualifications  cannot  be 
mistaken.  It  has  been  accompanied  by  a  correspond- 
ing movement  in  favour  of  an  enlargement  of  the  lines 
of  the  Established  Church.  I  do  not  think  that  the 
hold  of  this  Church  upon  the  affections  of  the  English 
people  has,  in  the  present  generation,  been  really 
weakened,  although  some  of  the  forces  opposed  to  it 
have  acquired  additional  strength,  and  although  the 
growth  within  its  borders  of  a  ritualistic  party  may 
very  possibly  one  day  lead  both  to  disruption  and  dis- 
establishment. But  the  lines  of  defence  and  of  attack 
have  been  somewhat  changed.  Both  the  doctrine  that 
a  State  establishment  of  religion  is  an  essentially  anti- 
Christian  thing,  and  the  doctrine  that  every  nation  is 
bound  in  its  corporate  capacity  to  profess  a  religion. 


520  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  vi. 

and  that  the  maintenance  of  an  established  Church  is 
therefore  the  first  of  national  duties  have,  I  think, 
lost  much  of  their  old  power.  The  belief  that  the 
Church,  as  a  continuous  organisation,  has  the  same 
indefeasible  right  to  its  tithes  and  glebes  as  a  private 
individual  to  the  property  which  he  has  earned  or  in- 
herited, and  the  belief  that  the  diversion  of  property 
from  religious  to  secular  purposes  is  an  act  of  sacrilege, 
have  certainly  not  passed  away,  but  they  are  no  longer 
governing  forces  in  English  politics. 

The  main  defence  of  the  Church  of  England  as  an 
establishment  now  rests  upon  its  utility.  It  is,  it  is 
said,  a  great  corporation,  which  is  indissolubly  bound 
up  with  the  best  elements  in  the  national  life  and  his- 
tory, which  has  shown  itself  in  these  latter  days  as  far 
as  possible  from  dormant  and  effete,  and  which  is  ex- 
ercising over  a  vast  area  and  in  multifarious  ways  a 
beneficent,  moralising,  and  spiritualising  influence. 
If  its  revenues  in  the  aggregate  seem  large,  no  other 
revenues  are  so  little  abused,  are  so  constantly  associ- 
ated with  moral  and  useful  lives,  are  so  largely  and  so 
steadily  employed  for  the  benefit  of  the  community. 
Its  parochial  system  places  in  the  poorest  and  most  un- 
attractive parish  an  educated  and  cultivated  resident 
gentleman,  who  is  not  dependent  on  his  parishioners^ 
and  whose  whole  life  is  spent  in  constant  intercourse 
with  the  poor,  in  constant  efforts  to  improve  their  con- 
dition, to  raise  their  morals,  to  console  them  in  their 
troubles.  Like  the  dew  of  Heaven,  the  silent,  continu- 
ous action  of  this  system  falls  over  great  tracts  of 
human  life  and  suffering  which  the  remedies  of  the 
politician  can  never  reach.  There  are  no  more  beau- 
tiful or  more  useful  lives  than  those  which  may  be 
often  found  in  some  backward  and  deserted  district, 
where  the  parish  clergyman  and  his  family  are  spread- 


CH.  vr,  ESTABLISHED  CHURCHES  521 

ing  around  them  a  little  oasis  of  cultivation  and  re- 
finement, and,  by  modest,  simple,  unobtrusive  and 
disinterested  work,  continually  alleviating  suffering 
and  raising  the  moral  level  of  those  among  whom  they 
labour.  What  a  contrast  do  they  often  present  to  the 
noisy  demagogue,  to  the  epicurean  party  gambler,  who 
is  seeking  for  votes  or  power  by  denouncing  them  !  I ; 
is  impossible  to  doubt  that  the  whole  of  this  system 
would  be  greatly  impaired  if  the  Church  were  broken 
into  fragments,  and  if  its  ministers  degenerated  into 
mere  narrow  sectarians,  representing  a  lower  plane  of 
education  and  refinement,  and  depending  for  their 
subsistence  on  the  good  pleasure  of  their  parishioners. 
And  the  parochial  system  is  but  one  of  the  many 
benefits  that  may  be  traced  to  the  Establishment.  The 
maintenance  of  a  learned  clergy,  who  play  a  great  part 
in  the  fields  of  literature  and  scholarship  ;  the  cathedral 
system,  which  adds  so  largely  to  the  sjDlendour  and 
beauty  of  English  life ;  the  existence,  both  at  home 
and  abroad,  of  an  order  of  men  to  whom  British  sub- 
jects of  all  creeds  and  classes  have  a  right  in  time  of 
trouble  to  appeal ;  the  wider  latitude  of  opinion  which 
an  established  Church  seldom  fails  to  give ;  the  im- 
portance of  a  State  connection,  both  in  restraining  the 
excesses  of  sacerdotal  tyranny  and  in  diminishing  the 
temptations  to  clerical  demagogism,  are  all  advantages 
which  may  be  truly  alleged  and  largely  amplified. 
Many  of  them  extend  far  beyond  the  limits  of  con- 
vinced Anglicans,  and  affect  most  beneficially  the 
whole  national  life.  Is  it  the  part  of  a  true  statesman 
to  destroy  or  weaken  a  machine  which  is  doing  so  mucL 
good  in  so  many  ways  ?  Is  it  probable  that  its  revenue 
would  be  more  wisely  or  more  usefully  employed  i\ 
they  were  flung  into  the  political  arena,  to  be  struggled 
for  by  contending  parties  ? 


522  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  vi. 

But  in  order  to  strengthen  these  lines  of  defence  two 
things  are  necessary.  The  one  is,  that  the  disadvan- 
tages attending  the  existence  of  an  established  Church 
should  be  reduced  to  the  smallest  possible  limits ;  the 
other  is,  that  the  benefits  of  the  establishment  should 
be  as  largely  as  possible  extended.  The  first  object  has 
been  attained  by  the  complete  abolition  of  religious  dis- 
qualifications and  disabilities.  These  were  once  de- 
fended as  inseparable  from  an  establishment,  and  the 
Dest  fortifications  for  its  defence.  They  are  now  more 
justly  looked  upon  as  the  most  serious  arguments 
against  it,  for  they  were  restrictions  and  injuries  im- 
posed on  different  classes  of  the  community  in  order 
that  it  might  subsist.  As  we  have  seen,  it  has  been 
one  of  the  great  works  of  the  nineteenth  century  to 
sweep  these  disqualifications  away. 

The  other  object  is  to  comprehend  the  largest  pos- 
sible portion  of  the  English  people  in  the  Established 
Church.  In  this  respect  reformers  are  following  faith- 
fully the  root  idea  of  the  Church,  which  was  intended 
to  be  a  national,  or,  in  other  words,  a  representative. 
Church,  representing  and  including  the  two  great  sec- 
tions of  the  community  that  were  separated  from  the 
See  of  Eome.  One  of  these  sections,  though  repudiat- 
ing the  pretensions  of  the  Papacy,  leant  strongly  to- 
wards the  theology  of  Rome  ;  the  other  frankly  adopted 
the  principles  of  the  Eeformation  on  the  Continent. 
The  composite  and  representative  character  of  the 
Church  is  clearly  exhibited  in  the  Prayer  Book,  which, 
if  it  does  not  contain  positive  contradictions  of  definite 
doctrine,  at  least  includes  very  evident  contradictions 
of  tendency. 

The  attempt  of  the  Tudor  statesmen  to  include  the 
whole  body  of  the  English  people  in  the  National 
Church  failed,  and  the  attempt  of  the  statesmen  of  the 


OH.  VI.   THE  CHURCH  AND  NONCONFORMITY     523 

Revolution  to  bring  back  the  great  Puritan  body  by  an 
Act  of  Comprehension  was  equally  unsuccessful.  The 
amalgamation  of  the  different  Protestant  organisations 
is  now  plainly  impossible,  and  if  it  were  possible  it 
would  be  of  very  doubtful  benefit.  It  is  true,  indeed, 
that  the  original  grounds  of  dissension  have  in  a  great 
measure  disappeared.  The  rigidities  and  the  distinc- 
tions of  Calvinistic  theology,  which  were  once  deemed 
so  transcendently  important,  have  lost  their  old  hold 
on  the  minds  of  men,  and  an  amount  of  ornament  and 
ritual  and  music  has  crept  into  Puritan  worship  which 
would  have  aroused  the  horror  of  the  early  Puritans. 
The  Ritualistic  party  in  the  Anglican  Church  is  very 
widely  separated  from  Protestant  Nonconformity,  but 
there  is  no  real  difference  of  principle  between  the 
Evangelical  section  of  the  Church  of  England  and  the 
great  body  of  the  Protestant  Dissenters.  With  many 
the  separation  is  a  mere  matter  of  taste,  some  persons 
preferring  the  written  liturgy,  and  some  the  extem- 
poraneous prayers.  Others  object  to  the  Church  of 
England,  not  because  their  own  type  of  theology  has 
not  a  fully  recognised  place  within  its  borders,  but  be- 
cause it  also  admits  doctrines  or  practices  which  they 
condemn.  With  others,  again,  the  separation  depends 
wholly  on  the  accident  of  birth  and  education.  Through 
habit,  or  interest,  or  affection  men  prefer  to  remain  in 
the  ecclesiastical  organisation  in  which  they  have  been 
brought  up,  and  with  which  they  are  not  dissatisfied, 
rather  than  go  over  to  another  to  which  they  have  na 
objection.  The  case  of  Scotland  shows  how  it  is  pos- 
sible for  three  Churches  to  exist  in  separation  which 
are  identical  in  their  form  of  worship,  identical  in  their 
ecclesiastical  organisation,  and  all  but  identical  in  their 
doctrine. 

The  decay  of  the  doctrinal  basis  of  English  Noncon- 


624        -  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  vi. 

formity,  though  it  is  not  likely  to  lead  to  any  amalga- 
mation of  Churches,  is  having  one  very  mischievous 
consequence.  It  is  giving  Nonconformity  a  far  more 
political  character  than  in  the  past,  and  a  political 
character  which  is  sometimes  singularly  unworthy  and 
unscrupulous.  Envy  becomes  the  guiding  motive,  a 
desire  to  break  down  and  diminish  the  Established 
Church  the  chief  ground  of  political  action.  A  charac- 
teristic though  an  extreme  example  of  this  spirit  was 
exhibited  by  certain  representatives  of  Welsh  Noncon- 
formity, who  actually  opposed  a  Bill  to  enable  the 
Bishops  more  easily  to  suppress  immorality  among 
their  clergy,  lest  it  should  tend  to  increase  the  eflB- 
ciency  of  the  Establishment.'  In  some  periods  of  past 
history  England  owed  much  to  the  political  action  of 
Nonconformists,  and  they  raised  very  appreciably  the 
moral  level  of  English  politics.  Those  who  have 
studied  their  conduct  and  their  alliances  in  the  present 
generation  will  scarcely  attribute  to  them  such  an  in- 
fluence. 

But  although  it  is  not  possible,  and  probably  not 
desirable,  that  the  Established  Church  should  absorb 
rival  organisations,  the  steady  tendency  of  the  present 
generation  has  been  to  expand  the  circle  of  permissible 
opinions.  An  Act  of  1865  modified  materially  the 
form  of  subscription  to  the  Articles.  Instead  of  being 
obliged  to  subscribe  to  '  all  and  everything '  in  the 
Thirty-nine  Articles  and  the  Prayer  Book,  the  clergy 
man  is  now  bound  only  to  a  belief  in  the  doctrines  oi 
the  Church  as  a  whole.  The  gross  tyranny  which, 
under  the  name  of  the  indelibility  of  orders,  made  it 
illegal  for  a  clergyman  who  had  found  it  impossible 

'  See  the  debates  on  the  Clergy  Sir  R.  Temple  on  this  discus- 
Discipline  (Immorality)  Bill  of  sion.  Life  in  Parliament^  pp. 
1892.     See,  too,  the  remarks  of     341-43. 


CH.  VI.  FREEDOM  OP  RELIGIOUS  OPINION  525 

conscientiously  to  continue  in  the  Church  to  adopt  any 
other  profession,  was  abolished  in  1870,  in  spite  of  the 
strenuous  opposition  of  Bishop  Wilberforce,  and  suc- 
cessive judicial  decisions  by  the  Privy  Council  have 
established  the  legal  right  of  each  of  the  three  parties 
in  the  Church  to  hold  their  distinctive  doctrines.  No 
feature  of  the  modern  Anglican  Church  is  more  con- 
spicuous than  the  great  variety  of  opinions  that  have 
now  a  fully  recognised  place  within  its  limits. 

This  movement  has  been  much  more  a  lay  movement 
than  a  clerical  one,  and  it  is  mainly  due  to  the  influ- 
ence which  establishment  gives  to  the  lay  element  in 
the  government  of  the  Church.  It  forms  a  remarkable 
contrast  to  the  growing  ascendency  of  ultramontanism 
in  the  Church  of  Eome,  but  it  is  in  full  accordance 
with  the  spirit  that  is  prevailing  in  the  legislation  and 
the  public  opinion  of  nearly  all  countries.  The  ten- 
dency to  multiply  restrictions,  which  is  so  clearly  seen 
in  many  departments  of  modern  legislation,  does  not 
appear  in  the  sphere  of  religion.  The  belief  both  in 
the  certainty  and  in  the  importance  of  dogma  has  de- 
clined ;  nearly  everywhere  great  fields  of  human  action 
are  being  withdrawn  from  the  empire  of  the  Churches, 
and  the  right  of  men  to  believe  and  profess  various 
religious  doctrines  without  suffering  molestation  or 
losing  civil  privileges  is  now  very  generally  recognised. 
In  some  countries  and  districts  the  law  is  certainly  in 
advance  of  public  opinion.  In  some  cases,  where  the 
overwhelming  majority  of  the  nation  belong  to  one 
creed,  there  are  restraints  upon  proselytism ;  and  dis- 
senters from  the  established  creed,  or  from  a  limited 
number  of  recognised  creeds,  are  forbidden  to  set  up 
churches,  though  they  may  meet  in  private  houses ; 
but  with  the  single  exception  of  Kussia,  all  the  coun- 
tries which  in  the  first  decades  of  the  century  were 


626  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  vi. 

most  intolerant  in  their  legislation  have  been  touched 
by  the  new  spirit. 

In  Sweden,  not  many  years  ago,  every  administrative 
and  judicial  function  was  strictly  limited  to  the  profes- 
sors of  the  Lutheran  creed.  Even  the  practice  of  medi- 
cine and  the  right  of  teaching  were  confined  to  them. 
All  attempts  to  induce  a  Lutheran  to  change  his  creed 
were  penal  offences,  severely  punished,  and  every  Swede 
who  abandoned  the  religion  of  his  country  was  liable 
to  banishment  for  life.  It  was  not  until  1860  that  the 
existence  of  dissenting  bodies  was,  under  severely  spe- 
cified conditions,  recognised ;  but  in  1862,  1870,  and 
1873  laws  were  passed  permitting  Swedish  Lutherans  to 
join  other  religions,  and  opening  nearly  all  public  posts 
and  employments,  as  well  as  the  seats  in  the  Legisla- 
ture, to  men  of  all  religions.' 

Austria,  again,  not  long  since  was  a  great  centre  of 
religious  and  political  reaction,  but  it  is  now  one  of  the 
best-governed  countries  in  Europe,  and  there  are  very 
few  modern  legislations  which  will  better  repay  study 
than  that  of  Austria  since  1860.  The  Concordat  of 
1855,  which  secured  the  Catholic  Church  a  monopoly, 
has  been  annulled,  and  the  Austrian  Constitution  makes 
all  civil  and  political  rights  independent  of  creed,  and 
guarantees  to  all  subjects  perfect  liberty  of  conscience 
and  worship.  A  distinction,  it  is  true,  is  drawn  be- 
tween recognised  and  unrecognised  religions.  The  for- 
mer, by  the  organic  law  of  1867,  comprised,  in  addition 
to  Catholicism,  tlie  Protestant  religions  of  the  Confes- 
sion of  Augsburg  and  of  the  Helvetic  Confession,  the 
Greek  Church,  and  the  Jewish  Synagogue ;  but  a  law 
of  1874  greatly  enlarged  the  circle,  by  providing  that 


'  Block,   Did.  de  la  Politique^  article  '  Suede.'     See,  too,  Da- 
reste,  Les  Constitutions  Modernes,  ii.  41,  42,  48,  51. 


ciL  VI.  SPAIN  AND  PORTUGAL  527 

all  other  creeds  might  obtain  a  full  legal  recognition  if 
they  satisfied  the  Minister  of  Public  Worship  that  there 
was  nothing  in  their  teaching,  worship,  or  organisation 
contrary  to  law  or  morals,  and  that  they  were  sufficiently 
numerous  to  support  a  Church.  These  recognised  reli- 
gions may  constitute  themselves  as  corporations,  regu- 
lating their  own  affairs,  founding  establishments,  and 
exercising  publicly  their  religious  worship.  The  ad- 
herents of  religions  that  are  not  legally  recognised 
have,  however,  a  full  right  to  celebrate  their  worship 
in  private  houses,  provided  there  is  nothing  in  that 
worship  contrary  to  law  or  morals.  In  the  State  schools, 
religious  instruction  must-  be  given  separately  to  the 
scholars  of  different  denominations  by  their  own  priests 
or  pastors,  or  by  lay  teachers  appointed  by  the  different 
religious  bodies.  A  valuable  and  most  significant  por- 
tion of  the  law  of  1874  provides  that  the  ecclesiastical 
power  must  never  be  used,  except  against  the  members 
of  the  Church  to  which  it  belongs,  and  that  it  must 
never  be  used  with  the  object  of  interfering  with  the 
observance  of  the  law,  or  the  acts  of  the  civil  power,  or 
the  free  exercise  of  any  civil  right.* 

Spain  and  Portugal  are  the  last  examples  that  need 
be  given  of  countries  in  which,  though  scepticism  and 
indifference  are  very  rife,  the  whole  population,  with 
infinitesimal  exceptions,  is  of  one  nominal  belief,  and 
in  which  the  steady  teaching  of  the  Church  and  many 
generations  of  intolerant  legislation  have  made  the 
establishment  of  religious  liberty  peculiarly  difficult. 
According  to  the  judgment  of  those  who  are  best  ac- 


'  See  Dareste,  Demombrynes.  tional  et  de  Legislation  compa- 

There  is  an  admirable  series  of  ree.    Tbey  are  scattered  through 

papers  examining  in  detail  the  several  volumes.   See  especially 

Austrian  legislation  since  1860  torn.  viii.  pp.  502-5. 
in  the  Revue  de  Droit  Interna- 


528  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  VL 

quainted  with  these  countries,  there  exists  in  both 
countries,  but  especially  in  Spain,  a  strong  determi- 
nation to  secularise  the  government,  to  limit  Church 
property,  and  to  restrain  ecclesiastical  power,  accom- 
panied by  much  indisposition  to  encourage  any  multi- 
plication or  competition  of  religions.^  Few  countries 
have  witnessed,  in  the  present  century,  more  confisca- 
tions of  Church  property  than  Spain,  and  the  political 
influence  of  its  priesthood  is  very  small,  though  it  is 
not  impossible  that  the  establishment  of  universal  suf- 
frage in  1890^  may  tend  to  its  revival.  The  Catholic 
religion  is  recognised  as  the  religion  of  the  State,  but 
it  is  provided  that  no  one  on  Spanish  soil  may  be  mo- 
lested for  his  religious  opinions  and  for  his  worship  as 
long  as  he  respects  Christian  morality,  though  '  the 
public  manifestations  and  ceremonies  of  the  State  re- 
ligion '  alone  are  authorised.  Small  congregations  of 
Spaniards  who  dissent  from  the  Established  Church 
worship  freely  and  publicly  in  the  chief  towns. 

In  Portugal  the  law  is  very  similar.  The  Catholic 
religion  is  recognised  as  the  religion  of  the  kingdom ; 
all  others  are  permitted  to  strangers,  and  they  may 
have  edifices  destined  for  their  worship,  but  they  must 
not  have  externally  the  appearance  of  churches.  *  No 
one  may  be  molested  for  his  religion,  provided  he  re- 
spects that  of  the  State  and  does  not  oifend  public  mo- 
rality.* At  the  same  time,  a  Portuguese  Avho  publicly 
apostasises  from  the  Catholic  Church  is  punished  by 
twenty  years'  suspension  of  political  rights.^  The  priests 
have  also  in  Portugal  a  recognised  place  as  registering 


'  An   interesting    account   of  '  See  Dareste,  i.  626. 

religion  in  Spain  will  be  found  ^  Revue    de    Droit     Interna' 

in  Garrido,  U Espagne  Contem-  tional^  xx.  334. 
porainct  pp.  123-G2  (18G2). 


CH.  VI.  TRUE  RELIGIOUS  LIBERTY  529 

agents  at  elections  for  the  Chamber  of  Deputies,  and 
these  elections  conclude  with  a  religious  ceremony.^ 

It  will  be  evident,  I  think,  to  those  who  have  taken 
an  extended  survey  of  the  subject,  that  the  line  of  re- 
ligious liberty  which  ought  to  be  drawn  in  any  country, 
like  most  other  political  lines,  is  not  an  inflexible  or 
invariable  one,  but  one  which  largely  depends  on  many 
fluctuating  considerations.  The  religious  legislation  of 
a  country  where  there  are  grave  differences  of  opinion 
will  naturally  be  somewhat  different  from  the  legisla- 
tion of  a  country  where  there  is  a  practical  unanimi- 
ty, and  where  opposing  creeds  can  only  be  introduced 
by  immigration  or  by  proselytism  from  without,  and 
considerations  of  public  order  may  most  legitimate- 
ly modify  and  limit  religious  legislation.  Eeligious 
processions,  demonstrations,  or  controversies  in  the 
streets,  which  would  probably  produce  obstruction  or 
riot,  or  which  are  intended  to  injure  some  class  or 
person,  or  which  would  irritate  public  opinion,  may 
be  most  properly  forbidden,  while  those  which  are 
practically  harmless  are  allowed. 

There  is  a  broad  and  intelligible  distinction  between 
the  right  of  freely  expressing  religious  or  political  opi- 
nions in  churches  or  meetings  to  which  no  one  is  obliged 
to  come,  in  books  or  papers  which  no  one  is  obliged  to 
read,  and  the  right  of  expressing  them  in  the  public 
streets,  which  all  men  are  forced  to  use,  and  which  are 
the  common  property  of  all.  The  first  and  most  essen 
tial  form  of  liberty  is  the  liberty  of  performing  lawful 
business  without  molestation  and  annoyance,  and  this 
liberty  is  most  imperfectly  attained  when  it  is  impos- 
sible for  men,  women,  or  children  to  pass  through  the 
streets   without  having  attacks  upon   their  religious 


'  Demombrynes,  i.  495,  503-5,  610. 
VOL.  I.  34 


630  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  VL 

belief  thrust  forcibly  upon  their  attention.  In  most 
countries  such  street  controversies  are  rigidly  sup- 
pressed. Where  they  are  permitted,  they  ought  surely 
to  be  deemed  a  matter  of  tolerance,  and  not  of  right ; 
to  be  regulated  in  each  case  according  to  special  cir- 
cumstances. Some  years  ago  it  was  the  habit  of  a 
Protestant  missionary  society  to  placard  the  walls 
throughout  the  Catholic  provinces  of  Ireland  with 
questions  and  arguments  subversive  of  the  Catholic 
faith,  and  missionaries  might  be  seen  driving  along 
the  roads  throwing  controversial  leaflets  to  every  pea- 
sant, and  into  every  turf-basket  as  they  passed.  In 
my  own  judgment,  such  a  method  of  propagandism 
ought  not  to  have  been  permitted,  and  it  is  probable 
that  most  of  those  who  disagree  with  me  would  admit 
the  principle  for  which  I  am  contending,  if  the  ar- 
guments that  were  disseminated  had  been  directed, 
not  against  Catholicism,  but  against  Christianity.  In 
France,  where  a  stringent  law  forbids  meetings  in  the 
streets,  it  has  been,  under  the  Eepublic,  a  common 
thing  to  see  profane  and  often  obscene  caricatures  of 
the  most  sacred  persons  and  incidents  in  the  Evan- 
gelical narratives  publicly  exposed.  The  prohibition 
of  such  placards  in  the  streets  would  surely  not  be  a 
violation,  but  a  vindication,  of  liberty. 

In  India,  questions  of  religious  liberty  of  great 
delicacy  and  difficulty  have  arisen.  For  a  long  period 
it  was  the  steady  policy  of  the  British  Government  not 
only  itself  to  maintain  an  attitude  of  strict  religious 
neutrality,  but  also  to  discourage  proselytism  as  a  grave 
danger  to  public  order.  '  The  English,*  Lord  Macart- 
ney declared,  '  never  attempt  to  disturb  or  dispute  the 
worship  or  tenets  of  others  ;  .  .  .  they  have  no  priests 
or  chaplains  with  them,  as  have  other  European  na- 
tions.'   In  1793,  when  the  charter  of  the  East  India 


CH.  VI.  RELIGIOUS   POLICY  IN  INDIA  531 

Company  was  renewed,  Wilberforce  endeavonred  to 
procure  the  insertion  of  clauses  to  the  effect  that  it  was 
the  duty  of  the  English  to  take  measures  for  the  reli- 
gious and  moral  improvement  of  the  natives  in  India, 
and  that  the  Court  of  Directors  should  for  that  purpose 
send  out  and  maintain  missionaries  and  schoolmasters, 
as  well  as  chaplains  and  ministers  for  those  of  their 
own  creed.  Owing  to  the  strenuous  resistance  of  the 
East  India  directors  and  proprietors,  these  clauses  were 
struck  out  of  the  Bill  at  the  third  reading ;  the  Com- 
pany for  many  years  refused  to  grant  licenses  to  mis- 
sionaries, and  they  more  than  once  exercised  against 
missionaries  the  power  they  possessed  of  expelling  un- 
licensed Europeans  from  India.  It  was  not  until  1813 
that  Parliament  broke  down  the  barrier,  and  threw 
open  the  doors  of  India  to  missionary  efforts.  It  did  so 
in  spite  of  a  great  preponderance  of  Anglo-Indian  opi- 
nion, and  of  the  evidence  of  Warren  Hastings,  and 
this  measure  marks  conspicuously  the  increasing  power 
which  the  Evangelical  party  was  exercising  in  British 
politics.^ 

But  although  India  was  from  this  time  thrown  open 
to  numerous  missionary  enterprises,  the  law  forbade 
and  forbids,  in  terms  much  stricter  than  would  be  em- 
ployed in  British  legislation,  any  word  or  act  which 
could  wound  religious  feelings,^  and  the  State  endea- 
vours to  maintain  its  own  religious  neutrality,  and  to 
abstain  as  far  as  possible  from  any  act  that  could  con- 
flict with  the  religious  feelings,  observances,  and  cus- 
toms of  the  subject  races.     It  has  not,  however,  always 


'  Strachey's   India ;    Wilher-  Kaye's    Christianity  in  India, 

forceps  Life,  ii.  24-28,  392-93  ;  and  Marshman's  Lives  of  Carey, 

iv.    JOl-26.     See,   too,  on  the  Marshman,  and  Ward. 

history  of  the  relations  of  Bri-  '^  Stephen's  History  of  Crimi- 

tish    law    to    native    religions,  nal  Law,  iii.  312-13. 


532  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  vi. 

been  able  to  do  so.  It  seems  an  easy  thing  to  guaran- 
tee the  free  exercise  of  different  forms  of  worship,  but 
grave  difficulties  arise  when  these  religions  bring  with 
them  a  code  of  ethics  essentially  different  from  that 
of  the  ruling  power.  Probably  the  first  instance  in 
which  the  British  Government  undertook  to  prohibit  a 
religious  observance  in  India  was  in  1802,  when  Lord 
Wellesley  suppressed  under  severe  penalties  the  sacri- 
fice of  children  by  drowning,  which  took  place  annually 
at  the  great  religious  festival  at  Saugor.  The  slaugh- 
ter of  female  infants,  though  it  does  not  appear  to  have 
grown  out  of  religious  ideas,  was  fully  recognised  by 
Hindu  morals,  and  it  was  practised  on  such  a  scale  that 
within  the  memory  of  living  men  there  were  great  dis- 
tricts in  which  not  a  single  girl  could  be  found  in  many 
villages.^  English  law  has  made  this  act  a  crime,  and 
some  legislation  which  is  as  recent  as  1870  has  done 
much  to  suppress  it.  The  human  sacrifices  that  were 
once  constantly  performed  before  the  images  of  Kali, 
and  "were  not  unfrequent  at  other  shrines,  have  been 
abolished,  and  in  1829  Lord  AVilliam  Bentinck  took  the 
bold  and  most  beneficent  step  of  abolishing  the  suttee, 
or  the  practice  of  immolating  Hindu  widows  on  the 
funeral  piles  of  their  husbands. 

The  horrible  fact  that  several  hundreds  of  women 
were  annually  burnt  alive  within  the  British  dominions, 
and  in  the  immediate  neighbourhood  of  Calcutta,  had 
long  occupied  the  thoughts  of  British  governors,  but 
the  practice  was  so  essentially  a  religious  rite  that  for 
a  long  time  they  did  not  venture  to  forbid  it.  Lord 
Cornwallis  directed  public  servants  to  withhold  their 
consent  from  the  ceremony,  if  it  was  asked  for,'  but  he 
prohibited  them  from  taking  any  official  step  to  pre- 


'  Strachey's  India,  pp.  290-91. 


OH.  VI.  SUPPRESSION   OP   THE  SUTTEE  533 

vent  it.  Lord  Wellesley  consulted  the  judges  about 
the  possibility  of  suppressing  it,  but  in  their  opinion 
such  a  step  would  be  extremely  dangerous.  In  1813, 
Lord  Minto,  while  disclaiming  all  intention  of  forbid- 
ding it,  or  of  interfering  with  the  tenets  of  the  native 
religions,  undertook  at  least  to  introduce  some  limita- 
tions and  regulations  with  the  object  of  diminishing  its 
barbarity.  According  to  the  new  regulations,  it  could 
only  be  practised  after  communication  with  the  magis- 
trates and  principal  officers  of  police,  and  in  the  pre- 
sence of  the  police,  and  they  were  directed  to  ascertain 
that  the  widow's  act  was  purely  voluntary,  that  no  stupe- 
fying or  intoxicating  drugs  were  employed,  that  there 
was  up  to  the  very  last  no  violence  or  intimidation,  that 
the  victim  was  not  under  the  age  of  sixteen  and  not  preg- 
nant. There  does  not,  however,  appear  to  have  been 
much  diminution  of  the  practice,  and  in  1828,  the  year 
preceding  its  suppression,  it  was  officially  reported  that 
463  widows  had  been  burnt,  287  of  them  being  in  the 
Calcutta  division  alone. '  In  the  ten  previous  years  the 
annual  number  of  immolations  is  said  to  have  averaged 
not  less  than  600. 

The  measure  of  Lord  William  Bentinck  excited 
many  fears  and  much  opposition.  It  was  argued  that 
the  practice  of  suttee  had  existed  for  countless  centu- 
ries in  India ;  that  it  was  in  the  eyes  of  the  Hindus  '  a 
religious  act  of  the  highest  possible  merit,'  a  '  sacred 
duty '  and  a  '  high  privilege  ; '  that  to  prohibit  it  was 
a  direct  and  grave  interference  with  the  religion  of  the 
Hindus,  a  manifest  violation  of  the  principle  of  complete 
religious  liberty  which  the  British  Grovernment  had 
hitherto  maintained  and  guaranteed.  Great  fears  were 
entertained  that  the  sepoy  army  in  Bengal  might  resent 


'  Mill's  History  of  India,  ix.  189. 


534  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  vi. 

the  suppression  ;  and  it  was  remembered  that  the  re- 
ligious element  was  believed  to  have  contributed  largely 
to  the  formidable  sepoy  mutiny  which  had  taken  place 
in  1806  at  Vellore,  in  Madras.  Lord  William  Bentinck, 
however,  wisely  took  the  officers  of  the  Bengal  Army 
into  his  confidence,  and  he  was  convinced  by  their  an- 
swers that  there  was  no  real  danger  of  revolt.  He  was 
encouraged  by  the  fact  that  the  custom  chiefly  prevailed 
among  the  effeminate  and  timid  inhabitants  of  Bengal ; 
that  it  was  almost  or  altogether  unknown  in  great  dis- 
tricts of  India  ;  that  the  Mohammedans  in  bygone  days 
had  successfully  interfered  with  Hindu  rites  to  a  far 
greater  extent  than  he  proposed.  The  judges  were  now 
of  opinion  that  the  suttee  might  be  safely  abolished, 
and  the  determined  policy  of  Lord  AV.  Bentinck  com- 
pletely triumphed.  Suttee  was  forbidden  in  Bengal  in 
1839,  in  the  Madras  and  Bombay  provinces  in  the  fol- 
lowing year.  There  were  a  few  successful  and  unsuc- 
cessful attempts  to  evade  the  new  law.  There  was  one 
somewhat  serious  riot.  There  was  a  strong  remon- 
strance, drawn  up  by  leading  Hindus.  There  was  an 
appeal  to  the  Privy  Council  in  England ;  but  when 
the  impotence  of  all  resistance  was  established,  the  na- 
tives speedily,  though  reluctantly,  acquiesced.  In  a 
few  years  suttee  became  a  mere  tradition  of  the  past, 
and  under  English  influence  even  native  princes  made 
laws  for  its  suppression.^ 

At  the  same  time  the  Government  took  the  utmost 
pains  to  impress  upon  the  natives  that  they  entertained 


'  See  Boulger's  Lord  William  widows  was  and  is  utterly  dis- 

^cwi^wcA;,  pp.  77-111,  and  Mill's  approved   by  all   but    a    small 

History   of  British   India,  ix.  minority  of  Hindus.      I  do  not 

184-92.     Sir  John  Strachey,  in  believe  that  the  majority,  even 

the   excellent    book   which    he  of    the    most    highly   educated 

published  in  1888,  says :  '  The  classes,  approve  it,  (India,  pp. 

prohibition   of  the   burning  of  353-54). 


CH,  VI.  PILGRIM  TAX  635 

no  desire  of  disturbing  their  faith.  Formal  declara- 
tions had  been  repeatedly  made  that  the  laws  of  the 
Shastra  and  of  the  Koran  would  be  maintained,  and 
that  Hindu  and  Mohammedan  would  be  as  fully  pro- 
tected in  the  free  exercise  of  their  religions  as  under 
a  Hindu  or  a  Mohammedan  Government.  The  law 
specially  recognised  and  protected  the  system  of  caste, ^ 
and  the  rites  of  idolatrous  worship  were  to  a  large  ex- 
tent endowed.  A  tax  was  levied  on  pilgrimages,  and 
chiefly  expended  in  defraying  the  expenses  of  the  tem- 
ple worship.  The  worship  of  Juggernaut  and  many 
less  important  shrines  was  subsidised,  and  the  Govern- 
ment exercised  a  superintending  care  over  the  manage- 
ment of  the  temples  and  over  the  vast  endowments 
which  had  been  from  time  immemorial  connected  with 
them ;  prevented  the  misappropriation  of  their  reve- 
nues ;  sent  soldiers  and  police  to  protect  or  dignify 
idolatrous  processions,  and  contributed  very  largely  by 
wise  and  honest  administration  to  the  prosperity  of  the 
great  religious  establishments. 

The  Evangelical  party  in  England  agitated  fiercely 
against  these  measures,  and  their  influence  gradually 
prevailed.  In  1833  the  Home  Government  was  induced 
to  order  the  abolition  of  the  pilgrim  tax  and  the  dis- 
continuance of  all  connection  between  the  Government 
and  idolatrous  ceremonies.  For  five  years  this  order 
seems  to  have  been  little  more  than  a  dead-letter,  but 
in  1838  more  efficacious  measures  were  taken.  The 
management  of  the  whole  system  of  idolatrous  worship, 
and  of  the  revenues  connected  with  it,  passed  exclu- 
sively into  the  hands  of  the  believers,  and  all  superin- 
tending and  supporting  connection  on  the  part  of  the 
Government  was  withdrawn. 


» 37  George  III.  c.  142,  sect.  13. 


536  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  vl 

Another  difficult  and  dangerous  question,  in  which 
considerations  of  humanity  and  justice  were  on  one 
side,  and  old-establislied  religious  custom  was  on  the 
other,  was  the  question  of  inheritance.  By  the  Mo- 
hammedan and  the  Hindu  laws  of  inheritance  apostacy 
was  equivalent  to  civil  death,  and  the  convert  lost  all 
rights  of  heritage.  This  law  had,  in  the  eyes  of  the 
believers,  a  religious  character ;  and  the  Hindu  law  of 
inheritance  had  an  especially  close  connection  with  the 
Hindu  religion,  as  property  descended  conditionally  on 
the  performance  of  religious  rites,  which  were  believed 
to  be  of  transcendent  importance  for  the  benefit  of  the 
dead.  Lord  AVilliam  Bentinck,  who  had  already  im- 
mortalised himself  by  the  suppression  of  the  suttee,  re- 
solved, if  possible,  to  abolish  the  penalty  which  the 
native  laws  imposed  on  conversion,  and  in  1832  he  in- 
troduced a  regulation  to  that  effect  into  Bengal.  After 
long  discussion  and  much  opposition  this  policy  at  last 
triumphed,  and  an  Act  was  carried  in  1850  abolishing 
through  the  whole  of  India  every  law  and  usage  inflict- 
ing forfeiture  of  property  on  account  of  apostacy  or 
exclusion  from  any  faith.  Another  measure  conceived 
in  the  same  spirit,  and  directed  against  some  peculiar 
Hindu  superstitions,  punished  with  imprisonment  any- 
one who  tried  to  intimidate  another  by  threatening  to 
make  him  the  object  of  divine  displeasure.  The  mar- 
riage of  Hindu  widows  also  was  legalised.  Native 
converts  to  Christianity  were  enabled  to  obtain  a  di- 
vorce from  husbands  or  wives  who  had  deserted  them 
on  account  of  their  conversion.  The  rights  of  succes- 
sion and  the  power  of  bequest  of  natives  who  did  not 
belong  to  any  native  religious  community  were  fully 
recognised.^ 

'  Stephen's  History  of  Crimi-  tianity  in  India ;  Leslie  Ste- 
nal  Law^  iii.  32 1 ;  Kaye's  Chris-     phen's  Life  of  Sir  James  Stephen^ 


OH.  VL  THE  EDWARDES  MEMORANDUM  537 

These  facts  show  sufficiently  that,  while  the  general 
principle  of  protecting  the  worship,  revenues,  and 
usages  of  native  religions  is  fully  recognised,  there  has 
been  an  increasing  tendency  in  Indian  legislation  to 
allow  considerations  of  humanity,  justice,  and  indivi- 
dual liberty  to  override  religious  considerations.  The 
great  sepoy  mutiny  of  1857,  which  was  mainly  due  to 
religious  fanaticism,  sufficiently  disclosed  the  extreme 
dangers  of  the  subject.  After  the  suppression  of  the 
mutiny,  also,  therp  was  a  moment  of  great  peril.  A 
powerful  party,  supported  by  the  high  authority  of 
Colonel  Herbert  Ed wardes,  one  of  the  most  distinguished 
of  Indian  soldiers,  attributed  the  mutiny  to  the  British 
Government  having  neglected  their  duty  of  bringing 
home  Christian  truths  to  the  native  population,  and 
Colonel  Edwardes  issued  a  memorandum  urging  that 
the  true  policy  to  be  pursued  was  '  the  elimination  of 
all  unchristian  principles  from  the  government  of 
India.  ^  To  carry  out  this  policy  he  desired  that  the 
Bible  should  be  compulsorily  taught  in  all  Government 
schools ;  that  all  endowments  of  native  religions  from 
public  money,  and  all  legal  recognition  of  caste,  should 
cease ;  that  the  English  should  cease  to  administer 
Hindu  and  Mohammedan  law,  and  to  countenance 
Hindu  and  Mohammedan  processions.  This  memo- 
randum received  a  considerable  amount  of  partial  or 
unqualified  support,  but  wiser  counsels  ultimately  pre- 
vailed. In  the  Queen^s  proclamation  of  October  1858 
there  is  a  remarkable  paragraph,  which  is  said  to  have 
been  due  to  the  direct  action  of  the  Queen  herself,  and 
which  did  very  mucti  to  establish  permanent  quiet  in 
India.     *  We  do  strictly  charge  and  enjoin,'  it  said,  *on 


pp.  259-60.      See,  too,   an  ad-      gious  Policy   in    India'    in  Sir 
Durable  chapter  on  'Our  Reli-      Alfred  Lyall's  Asiatic  Studies- 


638  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  vi. 

all  those  who  may  be  in  authority  under  us,  that  they 
abstain  from  all  interference  with  the  religious  beliefs 
and  worship  of  any  of  our  subjects,  on  pain  of  our 
highest  displeasure.'^ 

The  policy  indicated  in  these  words  has  been,  on  the 
whole,  carried  out  with  signal  sagacity  and  success, 
and  the  large  introduction  of  natives  into  high  offices 
under  the  Crown  has  had  a  reassuring  influence  on  the 
native  mind.  Before  the  mutiny  there  were  no  natives 
on  the  bench  of  any  supreme  court  of  India,  or  in  the 
Legislative  Council,  or  in  the  higher  branches  of  the 
Civil  Service.  Since  the  mutiny  all  these  great  de- 
partments have  been  thrown  open  to  them.  British 
law  protects  carefully  the  moral  and  social  types  that 
grow  out  of  the  native  religions,  and  especially  the 
Hindu  conception  of  the  family,  which  is  widely  differ- 
ent from  that  of  Christian  nations ;  and  it  is  mainly 
through  respect  for  native  ideas  that  the  Indian  penal 
code  treats  adultery  as  a  criminal  offence,  and  punishes 
it  with  imprisonment  that  may  extend  to  five  years. ^ 
At  the  same  time,  the  prohibition  of  the  suttee  and  of 
infanticide  has  introduced  grave  changes  even  into  this 
sphere.  The  law  already  violates  Hindu  notions  by 
permitting  the  remarriage  of  widows  and  modifying 
the  rules  of  succession,  and  it  is  not  likely  that  many 
years  will  pass  before  the  pressure  of  philanthropic 
European  opinion  leads  to  a  prohibition  of  the  horrible 
custom  of  child  marriage,  under  which  girls  of  ten  or 
twelve  years  are  assigned  as  wives  to  old,  worn-out,  and 
perhaps  dying  men.  In  the  protected  native  States 
the  British  Government  has  repeatedly  intervened  for 
the  purpose  of  putting  down  infanticide,  suttee,  sla- 


'  Bosworth   Smith's    Life    of         *  Stephen's    Criminal    La/w^ 
Laoffrence,  ii   325-26.  iii.  318. 


CH.  VL  ANGLO-INDIAN  LAW  539 

very,  the  punishment  of  alleged  witches,  and  punish- 
ment  by  torture  or  mutilation.^ 

The  educational  policy  of  the  Government  also 
which  was  chiefly  adopted  at  the  instigation  of  Sir 
Charles  Wood  in  1854,  and  which  has  since  then  been 
energetically  and  successfully  pursued,  cannot  fail  to 
have  a  real,  though  indirect  and  unintended,  influence 
on  religious  belief.  The  first  principle,  it  is  true,  oi 
that  policy  is  that  '  the  ruling  power  is  bound  to  hold 
itself  aloof  from  all  questions  of  religion.'  The  uni- 
versities, in  which  the  educational  system  culminates, 
are  purely  secular  examining  bodies,  modelled  after  the 
London  University ;  and  while  grants  in  aid  are  ac- 
corded to  all  private  educational  establishments  which 
impart  a  good  secular  education,  are  under  competent 
management,  and  are  open  to  inspection  by  Govern- 
ment officers,  the  State  proclaims  and  steadily  acts 
upon  the  principle  of  rigidly  abstaining  from  all  inter- 
ference with  the  religious  teaching  of  these  establish- 
ments. But  many  of  the  schools  and  colleges  that  have 
earned  grants  in  aid  are  missionary  establishments. 
Pure  secular  education,  which  the  Government  espe- 
cially encourages,  is  as  repugnant  to  Mohammedan  as  to 
Catliolic  ideas ;  the  mixture  of  classes  and  creeds, 
which  the  new  system  fosters,  breaks  down  social  divi- 
sions that  are  closely  connected  with  religious  beliefs  ; 
and  the  mere  spread  of  scientific  conceptions  of  the 
universe,  of  European  habits  of  thought  and  standards 
of  proof,  must  do  much  to  shatter  the  fantastic  cos- 
mogonies of  the  Hindu  creeds,  and  produce  a  moral 
and  intellectual  type  profoundly  different  from  that  of 
the  old  believers.  Education  as  yet  touches  only  a 
small  fraction  of  the  great  Indian  people  ;  but  in  this. 


I  Lee- Warner's  Protected  Princes  of  India,,  pp.  292-95. 


540  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  OH.  Tl 

as  in  other  ways,  contrary  to  its  own  wishes,  the  influ- 
ence of  the  Government  is  opposed  to  the  religion  of 
the  natives.  It  is  not  probable  that  it  is  preparing  the 
way  for  Christian  theology,  but  it  is  tending  to  under- 
mine or  attenuate  old  beliefs  and  to  introduce  Western 
types  of  thought  and  morals,  '  Few  attentive  observers 
of  Indian  history,'  writes  Sir  Henry  Maine,  '  can  fail  to 
see  that  the  morality  of  modern  indigenous  literature 
tends  to  become  Christian  morality,  which  has  pene- 
trated further  than  Christian  belief.' ' 

Another  case  in  which  the  principles  of  religious 
liberty  have  come  into  collision  with  principles  of  mo- 
rality and  public  expediency  may  be  found  in  Mor- 
monism  in  America.  Polygamy  was  not  an  original 
doctrine  of  the  Mormon  faith  :  it  was  not  until  1843, 
thirteen  years  after  the  publication  of  the  Book  of 
Mormon,  that  Joseph  Smith  professed  to  have  a  reve- 
lation authorising  it,  and  it  was  not  until  1852  that  it 
was  openly  acknowledged  to  the  Gentile  world.  Long 
before  this  period,  however,  the  Mormons  had  experi- 
enced a  large  amount  of  severe  and  illegal  mob  persecu- 
tion. The  rise  and  rapid  progress  of  a  new  religion 
combining  to  an  extraordinary  degree  the  element  of 
fraud  with  the  elements  of  fanaticism  soon  aroused  a 
fierce  resistance,  which  was  entirely  unrestrained  by 
the  provisions  of  the  Constitution  giving  unrestricted 
right  of  religious  belief  and  profession. 

In  its  first  form  Mormonism  was  simply  a  society  of 
men  believing  in  the  divine  mission  and  revelations  of 
Joseph   Smith,   baptised  for  the   dead   in   a  Church 


»  Ward's  Reign  of  Queen  Vic-  Blue  Book  on  '  The  Kesults  of 

toria^  i.  462.     There  is  an  ex-  Indian    Administration     during 

cellent  cliapter  on  Indian  Edu-  the  past  Thirty   Years '  (1889), 

cation   in   Sir  John   Strachey's  pp.  16-18. 
India.     See,  too,  an  interesting 


CH.  VI.  RISE  OF  MORMONISM  541 

which  he  founded  and  ruled,  placing  their  property  at 
his  disposal,  holding  some  very  materialistic  views 
about  the  nature  of  the  Divinity,  and  also  a  strange 
notion  that  Christ  had  preached  in  America,  after  His 
crucifixion,  to  Children  of  Israel  who  already  peopled 
that  continent.^  However  eccentric  might  be  these 
opinions,  Mormonism  in  its  general  aspect  was  a  sect 
not  wholly  differing  from  many  others,  and  it  could 
move  freely  within  the  wide  limits  which  the  American 
Constitution  accorded  to  religious  developments.  The 
Mormons  were  first  concentrated  in  considerable  num- 
bers in  the  town  of  Kirtland,  in  Ohio,  but  they  soon 
migrated  to  the  thinly  populated  district  called  Jack- 
son County,  in  Missouri,  where  about  1,200  were  esta- 
blished. In  obedience  to  a  revelation  of  Joseph  Smith, 
they  purchased  a  large  tract  of  land,  and  streams  of 
fanatics  poured  in,  boasting  loudly  that  the  land  was  to 
be  given  to  them  as  an  inheritance. 

The  old  settlers,  however,  resented  bitterly  the  in- 
trusion of  this  sinister  element,  and  after  a  long  series 
of  acts  of  violence  and  several  vicissitudes,  the  Saints, 
now  numbering  about  12,000,  were  compelled  to  cross 
the  Mississippi  into  Illinois,  where  they  built  the  town 
of  Nauvoo.  They  soon  organised  a  powerful  militia, 
established  a  regular  government,  and  displayed  to  an 
extraordinary  degree  those  industrial  qualities  for  which 
they  have  always  been  remarkable.  For  a  few  years 
their  progress  was  uninterrupted.  A  vast  temple  con- 
secrated to  their  worship  was  erected,  and  they  grew 
every  month  in  numbers,  power,  and  wealth ;  but  the 
same  causes  that  aroused  hostility  in  Missouri  made 
them  unpopular  in  Illinois,  and  it  was  strengthened  by 
a  well-founded  belief  that  the  sect  was  moving  in  the 


'  This  is  stated  in  the  Book  of  Mormon. 


542  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  vl 

direction  of  sexual  license.  Internal  dissension  also 
appeared ;  riots  broke  out,  and  the  State  authorities 
intervened.  Joseph  Smith  and  his  brother  surrendered 
to  stand  their  trial  on  the  charge  of  having  instigated 
an  attack  on  the  office  of  a  hostile  newspaper,  and  were 
placed  in  prison.  Then  followed  one  of  those  tragedies 
which  have  always  been  peculiarly  common  in  America  : 
the  prison  was  stormed  and  captured  by  a  hostile  mob, 
and  Joseph  Smith  was  shot  dead.  This  last  event  took 
place  in  June  1844. 

But  the  new  Church  survived  its  founder,  and  the 
election  of  Brigham  Young  placed  at  its  head  a  man  of 
very  superior  powers,  who  exercised  an  almost  undis- 
puted authoiity  till  his  death  in  1877.  It  was  sur- 
rounded by  numerous  and  bitter  enemies,  who  were 
utterly  unrestrained  by  any  considerations  of  law,  and 
after  many  months  of  trouble  and  violence,  after  the 
loss  of  many  lives  and  the  endurance  of  terrible  suffer- 
ings, the  Mormons  who  had  not  already  fled  from 
Nauvoo  were  driven  forcibly  across  the  Mississippi. 
They  had,  however,  before  this  time  taken  measures 
for  a  migration  which  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
incidents  in  modern  history.  Inspired  by  a  passionate 
fanaticism  that  seems  strangely  out  of  place  in  the 
nineteenth  century  and  in  an  intensely  industrial  soci- 
ety, they  resolved  to  cross  the  Eocky  Mountains,  to 
traverse  a  space  of  no  less  than  1,000  miles,  and  to 
establish  their  Church  far  beyond  the  limits  of  the 
United  States,  in  a  wild  and  desert  country,  inhabited 
only  by  roving  bands  of  savage  Indians.  This  daring 
scheme  was  executed  with  extraordinary  skill,  resolu- 
tion and  perseverance,  and  in  1847  and  1848  several 
thousands  of  fugitives  planted  the  nucleus  of  a  great 
State  on  tlie  borders  of  the  Salt  Lake. 

There  is  no  other  instance  in  history  in  which  a  re- 


CH.  VI.  -  UTAH  643 

ligious  fanaticism  was  so  closely  blended  with  an  in- 
tense industrial  spirit,  and  the  speed  with  which  the 
new  colonists  transformed  a  barren  waste,  built  and 
organised  a  great  city,  and  planted  in  this  far-off  land 
all  the  elements  of  civilisation,  is  one  of  the  wonders 
of  American  history.  Immigrants  poured  in  by  thou- 
sands, and  it  seemed  as  if  the  new  Church  would  at 
last  be  suffered  to  develop  its  own  type  of  life  and  belief 
nndisturbed.  But  the  ill-fortune  that  had  hitherto 
pursued  it  continued.  The  discovery  of  Californian 
gold  drew  the  stream  of  white  emigration  across  the 
territory  of  the  Salt  Lake,  the  Treaty  of  1848  with 
Mexico  placed  the  Mormon  home  within  the  jurisdic- 
tion of  the  United  States,  and  Arizona  and  New  Mexico 
grew  up  on  its  southern  borders. 

The  Mormons  desired  to  form  themselves  into  a 
separate  State  under  the  name  of  Deseret,  or  '  The 
Land  of  the  Honey-Bee,'  and  if  they  had  been  able  to 
do  so  they  would  have  obtained  almost  absolute  power 
of  self -legislation ;  but  Congress  refused  to  recognise 
them,  and  in  1850  the  Mormon  district  was  organised 
into  the  Territory  of  Utah.  The  position  of  a  Terri- 
tory is  very  different  from  that  of  a  State,  for  the  chief 
executive  officers  in  it  are  appointed  by  the  President 
of  the  United  States,  and,  although  a  local  legislative 
body  exists.  Congress  retains  great  powers  of  legislation 
and  control. 

Brigham  Young  was  appointed  the  first  governor, 
though  he  was,  a  few  years  after,  removed  on  account 
of  his  resistance  to  the  Federal  authorities.  For  a  long 
time  the  Mormon  priesthood  were  omnipotent  in  Utah. 
As  might  have  been  expected,  their  main  object  was  to 
baffle  all  interference  on  the  part  of  the  Federal  Go- 
vernment and  to  protect  themselves  from  Gentile 
intrusion ;    while   their    missionaries    preached    their 


544  DEMOCRACY   AND  LIBERTY  CH.  Tl. 

doctrines  far  and  wide^  and  many  thousands  of  immi- 
grants from  England  and  Wales,  from  the  Scandina- 
vian countries  in  Europe,  and  from  other  portions  of 
the  United  States,  traversed  the  vast  expanse  of 
desert,  and  brought  to  the  new  colony  their  strong 
arms,  their  burning  enthusiasm,  and  their  complete 
surrender  of  all  individual  will  and  judgment  to  the 
orders  of  the  Mormon  chief.  The  Federal  officers  who 
were  sent  to  Utah  found  themselves  practically  power- 
less in  the  face  of  a  unanimous  public  feeling.  All  the 
subordinate  functionaries  and  all  the  jurymen  were 
Mormons. 

The  tide,  however,  of  Gentile  emigration  had  set  in 
for  the  AVest,  and  emigrants  who  were  not  Mormons 
began  to  come  to  a  territory  where  all  the  first  diffi- 
culties of  settlement  had  been  overcome.  Tliey  were 
naturally  far  from  welcome  ;  in  1857  a  large  party 
were  massacred  at  a  place  called  Mountain  Meadows, 
and  although  Indians  were  the  chief  agents  in  the 
crime,  it  was  at  last  clearly  traced  to  a  Mormon  source. 
It  was  not,  however,  till  nearly  twenty  years  after  it  took 
place  that  the  chief  Mormon  culprit  was  brought  to 
justice.^  Many  minor  acts  of  violence  appear  to  have 
been  committed,  and  as  long  as  the  juries  consis.ted  of 
Mormons  it  was  found  impossible  to  punish  them. 
But  the  completion  of  the  Union  Pacific  Railway,  and 
the  discovery  of  some  rich  silver  and  lead  mines, 
strengthened  the  Gentile  immigration,  and  it  was 
vaguely  computed,  about  1890,  that  there  were  some 
50,000  Gentiles  in  Utah  and  about  110,000  Mormons.^ 


'  Many  particulars  about  this  Art.  '  Mormonism.'    The  same 

remarkable  case  will  be  found  well-informed  writer  computes 

in  an  article  in  the  Revue  des  the  whole  number  of  Mormons 

Deux  Mondes,  October  15,  1895.  at  at  least  250,000. 

'^  Encydopadia     Americana.^ 


CH.  VI.        SHOULD  POLYGAMY  BE  TOLERATED  ?  545 

But  before  this  time  the  existence  and  the  rapid  in- 
crease of  a  polygamous  community  in  America  greatly 
occupied  American  opinion,  and  different  religious 
bodies  were  urging  the  duty  of  suppressing  it.  There 
was,  however,  grave  difference  of  opinion  on  the  sub- 
ject. Deplorable  as  was  the  appearance  of  a  polygamist 
sect  in  the  midst  of  a  Christian  land,  there  were  those 
who  contended  that  polygamy  among  the  Mormons 
ought  to  be  tolerated,  as  Christian  Governments  had 
always  tolerated  it  among  Hindus  and  Mohammedans. 
It  was  clearly  the  offshoot  of  a  religious  system  resting 
on  a  religious  doctrine,  and  it  was  a  fundamental  prin- 
ciple of  the  United  States  to  give  all  religions  the  most 
ample  scope  for  their  development.  Polygamy,  these 
reasoners  observed,  prevails  over  a  vast  proportion  of 
the  human  race.  It '  is  supported  by  clear  and  incon- 
testable Old  Testament  authority,  and  it  is  not  very 
clearly  condemned  in  the  New  Testament.  When  it  is 
the  acknowledged  doctrine  of  a  well-defined  Church  it 
is  undoubtedly  an  evil,  but  it  is  much  less  dangerous 
than  when  it  is  irregularly  practised  in  a  generally  mo- 
nogamous society.  It  does  not  produce  the  same  con- 
fusion of  properties  and  families,  the  same  deception, 
or  the  same  social  stigma  and  oppression.  Much  was 
said  of  the  duty  of  the  Federal  Government  to  inter- 
vene on  behalf  of  the  oppressed  women,  who  were  de- 
graded by  polygamy  to  an  inferior  and  servile  condition. 
It  is  impossible,  however,  to  overlook  the  curious  and 
significant  fact  that  the  Mormons  were  the  first,  or 
almost  the  first,  people  to  give  the  political  suffrage  to 
women  ;  that  female  suffrage  existed  among  them  for 
many  years  ;  and  that  it  proved  so  favourable  to  poly- 
gamy that  its  abolition  by  the  Congress  was  one  of  the 
measures  for  suppressing  that  custom.  In  the  words 
of  one  of  the  latest  American  writers  on  this  subject, 
VOL.  I.  85 


546  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  vi. 

'  Woman  suffrage  existed  in  Utah  for  seventeen  years, 
and  proved  to  be  one  of  the  strongest  bulwarks  of  poly- 
gamy/ '  For  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  century  the 
Mormon  Church  fought,  with  every  weapon  that  it 
could  command,  the  laws  directed  against  its  favourite 
institution.  One  by  one  new  and  more  vigorous  pen- 
alties were  enacted  by  Congress  against  polygamy. 
Finding  women  the  most  ardent  champions  of  the 
vicious  practice  (owing  to  their  stronger  religious  con- 
victions). Congress,  in  1887,  took  away  their  right  of 
suffrage.^* 

In  the  face  of  such  facts  it  was  very  difficult  to  con- 
tend that  polygamy  was  generally  unpopular  among  the 
Mormon  women.  It  was  certain  that  women  bore  their 
full  proportion  among  the  Mormon  converts  and  the 
Mormon  devotees,  and  there  was  strong  evidence  to 
support  the  conclusion  that  they  were  in  general  con- 
tented with  their  lot.  Marriage  usually  took  place 
very  early.  The  wives  were  persuaded  that  their  state 
in  a  future  world  depended  on  the  happiness  they  pro- 
cured their  husbands  in  this ;  and  it  was  part  of  a 
Mormon's  religious  duty  to  live  equally  with  his  wives, 
and  abstain  from  favoritism.  If  they  did  not  observe 
this  duty,  they  were  publicly  reprimanded.^  The  Mor- 
mons, it  was  said,  only  asked  to  be  left  alone.  They 
had  gone  forth,  at  the  cost  of  terrible  hardships,  into  a 
distant  and  lonely  wilderness  to  practise  their  religion 


'  Mr.    Glen    Miller    in     The  The  Nineteenth  Century,  Janu- 

Forum,  Dec.  1894.  ary  1884.     Mr.  Barclay  quotes 

^See  an  interesting  descrip-  official  statistics  showing  how 
tion  of  Mormon  life  and  ideas,  immensely  greater  is  the  pro- 
by  Comte  d'Haussonville,  Revue  portion  of  crimes  among  the 
des  Deux  Mondes,  November  Gentiles  than  among  the  Mor- 
15,  1882 ;  and  also  an  article  mons  at  Utah.  See,  too,  Cap- 
called  '  A  New  View  of  Mor-  tain  Burton's  City  of  the  Saints. 
monism,'  by  11.  W.  Barclay,  in 


CH.  VI.  CRUSADE  AGAINST  POLYGAMY  547 

in  peace,  and  whatever  civilisation  existed  in  Utah  was 
wholly  their  work.  Nor  was  that  civilisation,  even 
from  a  moral  point  of  view,  a  contemptible  one.  What- 
ever else  might  be  said  of  polygamy,  it  could  not  be 
denied  that  it  had  extinguished  in  Utah  forms  of  vice 
that  were  the  canker  of  all  other  American  cities. 
Prostitution,  adultery,  illegitimate  births,  abandoned 
children,  were  unknown  among  the  Mormons,  and  the 
statistics  of  crime  showed  that,  judged  by  this  test, 
they  were  far  superior  to  the  Gentiles  around  them.  In 
intelligent,  well-organised  and  successful  industry  they 
had  never  been  surpassed.  Work  was  taught  as  the 
first  of  duties.  Large  families,  which  in  old  countries 
indicate  a  low  industrial  civilisation,  had  a  different 
character  in  a  new  country,  where  the  cost  of  labour  was 
enormously  great.  Each  member  worked  in  his  own 
department  for  the  whole  family,  and  each  family  be- 
came almost  wholly  self -subsisting.' 

Had  a  community  of  this  kind,  it  was  asked,  no 
claim  on  the  forbearance  of  the  Government  ?  Ought 
it  to  be  treated  as  a  mere  seed-plot  of  vice  ?  Was  it  in 
accordance  with  the  religious  liberty  which  was  so  so- 
lemnly guaranteed  by  the  Constitution  of  the  United 
States  ;  was  it  becoming  in  a  great  and  free  democracy 
to  enter  into  a  persecuting  crusade  against  a  Church, 
however  erroneous,  against  a  practice,  however  deplor- 
able, which  was  inseparably  connected  with  a  religious 
doctrine  ?  And  was  such  a  crusade  likely  to  have  any 
other  consequence  than  to  make  martyrs,  and  to  kindle 
this  strange  fanaticism  into  a  fiercer  flame  ? 

As  early  as  1862  there  had  been  a  law  against  poly- 
gamy, and  attempts  had  sometimes  been  made  to  en- 
force it,  but  they  proved  almost  absolutely  abortive. 


Comte  d'Haussonville. 


548  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  vi. 

All  the  juries  were  Mormons,  and  in  the  space  of 
eighteen  years  there  had  not  been  more  than  two  convic- 
tions for  polygamy.  After  the  termination  of  the  great 
Civil  War  public  opinion  was  more  strongly  directed  to 
the  subject,  and  more  than  one  stringent  law  against 
polygamy  was  made.  The  Mormons  asserted  that 
polygamy  was  a  tenet  of  their  faith,  and  therefore  en- 
titled to  the  protection  which  the  Constitution  accorded 
to  all  forms  of  religious  belief  ;  but  the  Supreme 
Court  decided  that  no  such  article  of  faith  could  claim 
protection  under  the  Constitution.^  In  1879  the  Go- 
vernment of  the  United  States  attempted  to  enlist  the 
services  of  other  countries  in  the  crusade,  and  a  circu- 
lar letter  was  sent  to  the  American  ministers  in  Europe, 
calling  the  attention  of  the  European  Governments  to 
the  American  enactments  against  polygamy,  and  asking 
them  to  prevent  the  preaching  of  Mormonism  and 
the  emigration  of  professed  Mormons  to  the  United 
States  ;  but  the  Governments  of  the  countries  where 
Mormon  missionaries'  had  been  most  successful  replied 
that  they  could  not  undertake  to  inquire  into  the  re- 
ligious belief  of  emigrants.  The  laws  of  1871  and  of 
1874  proved  almost  as  inoperative  as  that  of  1862. 
Federal  judges  were  sent  down  to  try  cases,  but  they 
could  try  them  only  with  juries  that  were  mainly  or 
exclusively  Mormon,  and  it  was  almost  impossible  to 
induce  such  a  jury  to  convict  in  a  case  of  polygamy. 

Eeligious  opinion,  however,  in  the  United  States 
urged  on  the  Government,  and  in  1883  they  began  a 
life-and-death  struggle  for  the  purpose  of  stamping  out 
polygamy.  The  Edmunds  law,  which  was  carried  after 
long  discussion  in  that  year,  is  a  striking  illustration  of 
the  extreme  energy  which  democratic  communities  can 


'  Dickinson,  New  Light  on  Mormonism^  p.  174. 


en.  VI.  CRUSADE  AGAINST  POLYGAMY  549 

throw  into  repressive  legislation.  Utah  had  been 
steadily  denied  the  privileges  of  a  State  constitution, 
knd  its  internal  affairs  were  therefore  under  the  full 
control  of  Congress.  The  Edmunds  law  provided  that 
in  all  the  '  Territories '  of  the  United  States  bigamy 
and  polygamy  should  be  punished  with  a  fine  of  not 
more  than  500  dollars  and  imprisonment  up  to  five 
years.  In  order  to  overcome  the  difficulty  of  obtain- 
ing proof  of  marriage,  it  provided  that  anyone  cohab- 
iting with  more  than  one  woman  shall  be  punishable 
by  imprisonment  up  to  six  months,  or  by  a  fine  not 
exceeding  300  dollars,  or  by  both  punishments,  at  the 
discretion  of  the  court ;  and  that  on  trials  for  bigamy, 
polygamy,  or  unlawful  cohabitation,  any  juryman  might 
be  challenged  who  had  been  living  in  the  practice  of 
any  of  these  acts,  or  who,  without  being  himself  a  po- 
lygamist,  '  believes  it  right  for  a  man  to  have  more 
than  one  living  and  undivorced  wife  at  the  same  time, 
or  to  live  in  the  practice  of  cohabiting  with  more  than 
one  woman.'  Every  man  as  he  entered  the  jury-box 
might  be  questioned  on  oath  as  to  his  belief  and  prac- 
tice in  these  matters.  Polygamists  and  their  Avives 
were  at  the  same  time  deprived  of  all  power  of  voting 
at  elections,  and  were  incapacitated  from  holding  any 
public  place  of  trust  or  emolument.  All  registration 
and  election  offices  in  the  Territory  of  Utah  were  de- 
clared vacant,  and  a  commission  of  five  persons,  ap- 
pointed by  the  President  of  the  Republic,  was  sent 
down  to  supersede  all  Mormon  functionaries  in  matters 
of  election,  and  to  appoint  new  ones.^ 

Under  the  influence  of  this  most  Draconic  law  poly- 
gamy was  for  the  first  time  severely  punished.     All 


'  See  the  text  of  the  Edmunds  law  in  Dickinson,  New  Light  on 
Mormonism,  pp.  150-53. 


550  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  vr. 

who  practised  and  all  who  sympathised  with  it  being 
removed  from  the  juries,  many  convictions  were  ob- 
tained. In  the  year  ending  in  September  1891  there 
were  no  less  than  109  convictions.^  In  general  the 
Mormons  appear  to  have  welcomed  their  long  sentences 
of  imprisonment  in  the  spirit  of  martyrs,  declaring 
that  they  must  obey  God  rather  than  men,  and  women 
constantly  refused  to  give  evidence  thatcould  convict 
their  husbands.  Under  the  disenfranchising  clauses  of 
the  Edmunds  law  about  12,000  men  and  women  were 
deprived  of  their  votes.  ^ 

As,  however,  the  actual  practice  of  polygamy  was  by 
this  law  required  for  disfranchisement,  power  still  re- 
mained with  the  Mormons,  and  Mormons  who  believed 
in  polygamy,  though  they  were  not  known  to  be  them- 
selves polygamists,  were  almost  always  elected.  But-a 
long  series  of  other  measures  were  taken  to  break  down 
their  political  power.  By  the  Federal  law  which  1  have 
already  mentioned  female  suffrage  in  Utah  was  abol- 
ished, on  the  ground  that  it  contributed  to  strengthen 
Mormonism.  It  was  decided  that,  the  Mormon  Church 
being  'utterly  subversive  of  good  morals  and  the  well- 
being  of  society,^  no  alien  who  is  a  Mormon  could  be 
naturalised,  and  the  funds  of  the  Mormon  society  for 
encouraging  immigration  were  confiscated.  A  local 
test  oath  was  imposed  as  a  qualification  for  the  suffrage, 
obliging  every  voter  to  swear  that  he  is  not  a  bigamist 
or  polygamist,  or  a  member  of  any  order  which  encou- 
rages and  practises  plural  marriage  ;  and  the  Supreme 
Court,  in  1890,  determined  that  this  test  was  not  con- 
trary to  the  Constitution.     The  criminal  law  against 


^Political  Science  Quaiierly,      (The  Nineteenth   Century ,  Jan* 
1891,  p.  768.  uary  1884). 

»  Mr.    Barclay    says     16,000 


CH.  VI.  CRUSADE  AGAINST  POLYGAMY  551 

polygamy  was  steadily  enforced,  and  it  was  strengthened 
by  new  and  stringent  provisions  directed  against  un- 
willing witnesses,  compelling  a  full  registration  of  all 
marriages,  depriving  illegitimate  children  of  rights  of 
inheritance,  and  treating,  in  the  spirit  of  the  old  Puri- 
tan legislation,  both  adultery  and  simple  fornication  as 
criminal  offences.^  These  last  measures,  of  course, 
both  were  and  were  intended  to  be  purely  partial  in 
their  operation.  No  one  would  have  dreamed  of  apply- 
ing them  to  Chicago  or  New  York.  But  by  such  means 
the  Mormon  ascendency  in  Utah  was  broken,  and  in 
the  election  of  1890  the  Gentile  element,  for  the  first 
time,  obtained  control  of  its  municipal  government.'^ 
The  Mormon  Church  was  itself  pronounced  to  be  an 
illegal  corporation,  its  property  was  forfeited  or  es- 
cheated ;  and  the  forfeiture  appears  to  have  been  se- 
verely enforced.  As  one  of  the  latest  American  writers 
on  the  subject  says,  '  Officials  sent  from  the  Eastern 
States  to  official  positions  in  the  Territory  as  a  reward 
for  party  services,  found  indiscriminate  denunciation  of 
the  Mormons  an  excellent  method  of  perpetuating  po- 
litical power.  It  is  notorious  that  not  a  few  who  came 
to  Utah  poor  men  enriched  themselves  at  the  expense 
of  the  Mormon  Church.  The  shrinkage  of  the  Church 
property  escheated  by  the  Government  would  itself 
unfold  a  tale  of  official  rapacity,'  and  there  were  '  ugly 
hints  of  corruption'  extending  even  to  the  judicial 
bench.  ^ 

'  The  text  of  the  very  severe  married  man  or  woman  commits 

and  comprehensive  Act  of  1884  fornication,  each  of  them  shall 

is  given  in  Dickinson,  pp.  153-  be   punished    by   imprisonment 

60.      It    enacts,    among    other  not  exceeding  six  months,  or  by 

things  (ss.   19,  20),   '  that  who-  fine  not  exceeding  100  dollars.' 

ever  commits  adultery  shall  be  ^  Political  Science  Quarterly^ 

punished    by   imprisonment   in  1890,  pp.  371-72. 

the  penitentiary  not   exceeding  ^  The  Forum,  December  1894) 

three  years,'  and  'that  if  an  un-  p.  464. 


552  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  vi. 

It  would  require  an  amount  of  local  knowledge  to 
which  I  can  make  no  pretence,  and  which  only  an 
American  writer  is  likely  to  possess,  to  estimate  with 
any  confidence  the  present  and  future  effects  of  this 
crushing  legislation.  The  accounts  are  somewhat  con- 
flicting, and  for  some  time  after  the  enactment  of  the 
Edmunds  law  very  competent  American  writers  were 
exceedingly  desponding  about  the  results.  They  com- 
plained that  polygamy  had  never  been  more  defiantly 
preached  and  more  fearlessly  practised  ;  that  it  seemed 
rather  to  increase  than  diminish  ;  that  the  whole  body 
of  the  Mormons  acted  with  a  perfect  discipline  in  obe- 
dience to  the  commands  of  their  chief,  voting  together, 
controlling  their  schools,  and  electing  their  chief  offi- 
cers. Having  been  refused  the  right  of  State  indepen- 
dence for  more  than  twenty  years  after  their  population 
and  wealth  were  sufficient  to  entitle  them  to  it,  they 
made  it  an  object  to  secure  a  predominan'ce  in  the  State 
of  Nevada,  and  soon  acquired  there  an  important  influ- 
ence. They  were  said  to  hold  the  balance  of  power  in 
Idaho  and,  Arizona,  and  to  be  rapidly  increasing  in  the 
Territories  of  Washington,  Montana,  and  Wyoming,  as 
well  as  in  Colorado  and  New  Mexico.  Eumours  of 
another  distant  migration  were  sometimes  heard  among 
them.  They  were  accused  of  an  implacable  hatred  to 
the  Federal  Government,  and  the  opinion  was  openly 
expressed  by  many  of  their  enemies  that  even  if  Mor- 
monism  cleared  itself  from  all  suspicion  of  polygamy, 
it  should  be  exterminated  at  any  cost ;  that  it  was  lead- 
ing rapidly  to  civil  war  in  Utah  ;  that  if  it  were  not 
effectually  suppressed  the  Mormon  leaders  would,  in  a 
few  years,  rule  every  State  to  the  west  of  the  Missis- 
sippi.^ . 

■  EncyclopcEdia  Americana.^  New  Light  on  Mormonism,  pp. 
Art. '  Mormonism ; '  Dickinson's      170-86,  197 ;  Codman's  Solution 


CH.  VI.  EFFECTS  OF  THE  CRUSADE  653 

Whether  these  statements  were  exaggerated  when 
they  were  originally  made  I  am  not  able  to  say.  There 
is,  however,  evidently  another  side  to  the  question,  and 
during  the  last  few  years,  and  especially  since  1891, 
the  aspect  of  the  Mormon  question  in  America  has  con- 
siderably changed.  Many  powerful  influences  have 
been  favouring  the  policy  of  the  Government.  It  was 
noticed  that  among  the  more  wealthy  Mormons  there 
was  a  growing  disposition  to  secede.  Such  men  na- 
turally desired  to  escape  the  strict  exaction  of  tithes 
for  the  benefit  of  the  Mormon  Church,  and  they  felt 
more  keenly  than  poor  men  both  the  legal  penalties 
and  the  social  stigma  attaching  to  their  creed.  Poly- 
gamy had  proved,  from  an  economical  point  of  view, 
possible,  and  even  successful,  as  long  as  the  family  re- 
mained fully  self-supporting  and  all  its  members  were 
engaged  in  different  industries,  but  it  became  far  too 
expensive  a  luxury  to  subsist  long,  under  the  condi- 
tions of  American  life,  in  an  idle,  leisured  class.  More 
frequent  and  more  intimate  contact  with  the  Gentile 
world,  and  the  rise  of  a  new  generation  who  had  but 
little  of  the  fierce  fanaticism  of  the  early  converts,  had 
their  influence,  and  many  of  the  younger  Mormons 
were  manifestly  indisposed  to  an  institution  which 
brought  with  it  severe  social  and  legal  penalties,  and 
obstructed  and  hampered  them  at  every  step  of  their 
career.  While  such  a  feeling  was  growing,  a  formida- 
ble schism  broke  out  in  the  Church.  A  party  called 
Josephites,  or  'Latter-day  Saints  of  the  Eeorganised 
Church  of  Jesus  Christ,'  appeared,  and  is  said  soon  to 


of  the  Mormon  Problem.     There  in  the  English  press  on  the  sub- 
are  some  striking  and,  I  think,  ject  of  Mormonism  in  Mill  On 
just  remarks  on  the  persecuting  Liberty^  pp.  163-67  (ed.  1859). 
spirit  which  has  been  displayed 


564  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  vi. 

have  enlisted  20,000  followers.  It  was  led  by  Joseph 
Smith,  a  son  of  the  founder  of  Mormonism,  and  it  de- 
nounced polygamy  as  a  departure  from  the  original 
faith.' 

All  these  things  were  preparing  a  great  change  in 
the  Mormon  Church ;  and  the  laws  against  polygamy 
appear  to  have  found  considerable,  though  for  the  most 
part  silent,  support  among  the  Mormons  themselves. 
After  some  hesitation  their  leaders  recognised  the  fact. 
The  abstract  lawfulness  of  this  institution  is  still  a 
part  of  the  Mormon  creed,  but  its  practice  under  pre- 
sent circumstances  has  not  only  been  suspended,  but 
been  forbidden  in  the  Mormon  Church.  In  September 
1890  the  head  of  that  Church  publicly  announced  a 
revelation  warning  Latter-day  Saints  against  contract- 
ing any  marriage  forbidden  by  the  law  of  the  land. 
Wheth'er  this  abandonment  is  final  and  quite  sincere  it 
is  difficult  to  say,  but  Mr.  Glen  Miller,  whom  I  have 
already  quoted  as  a  late  authority  on  the  subject, 
firmly  believes  in  its  reality.  '  The  institution  of 
polygamy,'  he  says, '  would  have  gone  down  eventually 
of  its  own  weight  under  the  rush  of  Gentile  immigra- 
tion. The  action  of  the  Church  only  hastened  the  in- 
evitable. In  the  days  of  its  strongest  hold  less  than  10 
per  cent,  of  the  adult  males  of  the  Territory  lived  in 
polygamy.  No  "  plural "  marriages  in  any  form  are 
now  taking  place  in  Utah.  It  is  a  sin  within  the  Mor- 
mon Church,  as  within  any  other,  to  live  with  more 
than  one  woman.  The  young  man  who  should  attempt 
it  would  find  himself  and  his  mistress  (for  such  any 
*'  plural "  wife  would  be  regarded)  subject  to  the  same 
social  ostracism  from  the  Mormons  as  from  society  at 
large/    At  the  same  time,  this  writer  observes,  *  there 


'  Dickinson,  pp.  215-16. 


CH.  VI.  POLYGAMY  ABANDONED  665 

has  been  a  complete  cessation  of  persecution  for  poly- 
gamy, and  numbers  of  old-time  offenders  have  resumed 
relations  with  their  "  plural "  wives  with  practical  im- 
munity from  punishment.  But  the  prop  of  polygamy — 
its  social  respectability  and  exaltation  as  a  religious 
virtue — has  been  taken  away.  These  old  polygamists 
visit  their  younger  wives  precisely  as  a  married  man  in 
an  Eastern  community  might  consort  with  a  mistress — 
quietly  and  stealthily,  not  openly  or  boastfully,  as 
formerly.' 

The  sharp  division  between  the  Mormons  and  the 
Gentiles,  which  a  few  years  ago  was  general,  is  fast  dis- 
appearing. Intermarriages  are  not  unfrequent.  They 
mingle  largely  in  the  public  schools.  They  are  united 
in  all  forms  and  institutions  of  business  ;  and  what  is 
perhaps  even  more  important,  the  Mormons  have 
ceased  to  act  politically  as  a  purely  isolated  body,  and 
have  thrown  themselves  cordially  into  the  great  party 
contests  of  the  United  States.*  They  are  said  to  be 
exhibiting  to  a  full  measure  that  flexibility  of  adapta- 
tion which  is  so  remarkable  in  the  American  people, 
and  which  enables  them  with  a  rapidity  scarcely  known 
in  Europe  to  accommodate  themselves  to  new  condi- 
tions. 

The  authorities  in  the  Federal  Government  have 
shown  themselves  very  ready  to  accept  the  submission. 
In  the  September  of  1894,  President  Cleveland  issued 
a  proclamation  declaring  that  he  was  satisfied  that  the 
members  of  the  Mormon  Church  were  now  living  in 
obedience  to  the  law,  and  granting  a  full  amnesty  and 
pardon  to  those  who  had  been  convicted  of  polygamy 
and  deprived  of  their  civil  rights  ; '  and  in  the  same 


'  3%«J^orMwt,  December  1894.         ''The  Times,  Jnly  14,   Sept. 

29. 1894. 


556  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  vi. 

year  Congress  passed  a  measure  under  which  Utah,  in 
the  beginning  of  1896,  attained  its  long-sought  object, 
and  was  admitted  as  a  separate  State  in  the  American 
Union.  One  of  the  conditions  of  the  enabling  Act  is 
that  the  new  Constitution  prohibits  polygamy. 

The  party  which  was  created  for  the  special  pur- 
pose of  opposing  Mormonism  was  formally  disbanded 
at  the  close  of  1893,  and  both  of  the  great  parties 
in  the  State  are  now  competing  for  the  Mormon  vote. 
The  charge  which  has  recently  been  brought,  with 
most  effect,  against  the  Mormons  has  not  been  their 
polygamy,  but  their  susceptibility  to  Church  inter- 
ference in  political  life.  At  the  same  time  the  non- 
Mormon  politicians  have  shown  themselves  very  ready 
to  nominate  as  candidates  officials  of  the  Mormon 
Church,  believing  that  such  candidates  are  likely  to 
secure  the  largest  number  of  Mormon  votes.  A  gentle- 
man holding  the  high  position  of  '  Apostle '  in  the 
Church  was  put  forward  by  the  Democratic  party  as 
their  nominee  for  the  Senate  of  the  United  States.^  So 
complete  to  all  appearance  is  the  reconciliation  between 
the  American  Government  and  the  Mormon  Church, 
that  it  is  said  to  be  a  Mormon  tenet  that  the  American 
Constitution  is  an  inspired  document.^ 

A  future  historian  must  tell  the  final  results  of  the 
conflict  which  I  have  described  between  religious  fa- 
naticism and  repressive  legislation,  but  it  is  surely  a 
curious  sign  of  the  times  that  the  theatre  of  the  sti'uggle 
should  have  been  the  great  democracy  of  the  West. 


'  See  an  article  of  Mr.  Glen         ^  Report  of  the  Commissioners 

Miller's  in  The  Forum,,,  Decern-  on  the   Causes  of  Immigration 

ber  1895.    The  senators  elected,  to  the  U.S.A.  (House  of  Repre- 

however,  were  of  the  Bepubli-  sentatives,  1892),  pp.  185-86. 
can  party. 


CH.  VI.  THE  ANTI-SEMITE  MOVEMENT  567 

When  democratic  opinion  thoroughly  favours  repres- 
sion, that  repression  is  likely,  in  the  conditions  of 
modern  society,  to  be  stronger  and  more  uncompro- 
mising than  under  a  monarchy  or  an  aristocracy.  It 
is  difficult  to  observe  Avithout  some  disquiet  the  mani- 
festly increasing  tendency  of- democracies  to  consider 
the  regulation  of  life,  character,  habits,  and  tastes 
within  the  province  of  Governments.  On  the  whole, 
however,  democracies,  at  least  in  the  Anglo-Saxon 
race,  seem  to  me  favourable  to  religious  liberty.  No 
doctrines  have  more  manifestly  declined  during  the  last 
half -century  than  the  doctrines  of  salvation  by  belief, 
of  exclusive  salvation,  and  of  the  criminality  of  error, 
which  lay  at  the  root  of  the  great  persecutions  under 
Christian  rule.  No  forms  of  liberty  are  more  prized 
by  English  democracies  than  the  liberty  of  expression, 
discussion,  and  association.  The  prevailing  passion 
for  equality  favours  the  rise  of  various  sects,  and -a 
great  indifference  to  religious  dogma  in  general  pre- 
vails among  the  working  class,  who  have  now  risen  to 
power. 

There  is,  however,  another  influence  connected  with, 
and  scarcely  less  strong  than,  democracy  which  has  an 
opposite  tendency,  and  it  is  probable  that  if  religious 
persecution  ever  again  plays  a  great  part  in  human 
affairs,  it  will  be  closely  connected  with  that  growing 
sentiment  of  nationality  which  I  have  examined  in 
the  last  chapter.  No  attentive  observer  can  have  failed 
to  notice  how  frequently  it  displays  itself  in  a  desire  to 
unify  the  national  type,  and  to  expel  all  alien  and  un- 
congenial elements.  Eeligion  more  than  any  other 
single  influence  perpetuates  within  a  nation  distinct 
types  and  consolidates  distinct  interests.  Few  facts  in 
the  nineteenth  century  have  been  so  well  calculated 
to  disenchant  the  believers  in  perpetual  progress  with 


558  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  vi. 

their  creed  as  the  anti-Semite  movement,  which  in  a 
few  years  has  swept  like  an  angry  wave  over  the 
greater  part  of  Europe.  It  was  scarcely  heard  of  be- 
fore the  latter  years  of  the  seventies,  but  it  has  already 
become  a  great  power,  not  only  in  semi-civilised  coun- 
tries like  Eoumania  and  Eussia,  but  also  in  Austria 
and  in  Germany.  In  France,  which  had  been  promi- 
nent for  its  early  liberality  to  the  Jews,  the  immense 
popularity  of  the  works  of  Drumont  shows  that  the 
anti-Semite  spirit  is  widely  spread.  I  have  already 
noticed  how  clearly  the  extravagant  French  enthu- 
siasm for  Eussia,  at  the  very  time  when  the  Eussian 
Government  was  engaged  in  savage  persecution  of  the 
Jewish  race,  shows  that  a  question  of  national  in- 
terests and  national  revenge  could  supersede,  in  one  of 
the  most  enlightened  nations  in  Europe,  all  the  old 
enthusiasm  for  religious  liberty.  The  recent  move- 
ment for  proscribing,  under  pretence  of  preventing 
cruelty  to  animals,  the  mode  of  killing  animals  for 
food,  which  is  enjoined  in  the  Jewish  ritual,  is  cer- 
tainly at  least  as  much  due  to  dislike  to  the  Jews  as 
to  consideration  for  cattle.  It  appears  to  have  arisen 
among  the  German  anti-Semites,  especially  in  Saxony, 
and  in  1893  a  law  prohibiting  the  Jewish  mode  of 
slaughtering  cattle  was  carried  in  Switzerland  by  a 
popular  vote. 

In  these  countries  the  anti-Semite  movement  has  been 
essentially  a  popular  movement,  a  fierce  race-hatred, 
pervading  great  masses  of  the  people,  and  for  the 
most  part  neither  instigated  nor  encouraged  by  their 
Governments.  Eeligious  fanaticism  has  mixed  with  it, 
but  usually,  and  especially  in  Germany,  it  has  played 
only  a  very  minor  part.  Many  causes  have  conspired 
to  it.  The  enormous  power  which  Jews  have  obtained 
in  the  press  and  the  money  markets  of  Europe  is  very 


CH.  VL  THE  RUSSIAN  PERSECUTION  559 

evident,  and  great  power  is  never  more  resented  than 
when  it  is  in  the  hands  of  men  who  suffer  from  some 
social  inferiority.  Jews,  in  some  countries,  are  spe- 
cially prominent  in  unpopular  professions,  such  as 
tax-gatherers  and  small  money-lenders,  agents,  mani- 
pulators and  organisers  of  industry.  They  have  little 
turn  for  labouring  with  their  hands,  but  they  have  a 
special  skill  in  directing  and  appropriating  the  labour 
of  others.  They  have  come  to  be  looked  upon  as  typi- 
cal capitalists,  and  therefore  excite  the  hostility  both 
of  Socialists,  who  would  make  war  on  all  capitalists, 
and  of  the  very  different  class  which  views  with  Jea- 
lousy the  increasing  power  of  money,  as  distinguished 
from  land,  in  the  government  of  the  world  ;  while,  on 
the  other  hand,  they  have  themselves  contributed 
largely  to  the  socialistic  and  revolutionary  elements  in 
Europe.  Among  their  many  great  gifts,  they  have 
never,  as  a  race,  possessed  the  charm  of  manner  which 
softens,  conciliates,  and  attracts,  and  the  disintegra- 
tion of  politics,  which  is  such  a  marked  feature  of  our 
time,  brings  every  separate  group  into  a  clearer  and 
stronger  relief.  It  is  as  a  distinct  and  alien  element 
in  the  national  life  that  they  have  been  especially  as- 
sailed. 

The  Eussian  persecution  stands  in  some  degree  apart 
from  the  other  forms  of  the  anti-Semite  movement, 
both  on  account  of  its  unparalleled  magnitude  and  fe- 
rocity, and  also  because  it  is  the  direct  act  of  a  Govern- 
ment deliberately,  systematically,  remorselessly  seeking 
to  reduce  to  utter  misery  about  four  and  a  half  millions 
of  its  own  subjects.  The  laws  of  General  Ignatieff  in 
May  1883,  and  the  later  and  still  more  atrocious  mea- 
sures that  were  taken  at  the  instigation  of  M.  Pobedo- 
nostseff,  form  a  code  of  persecution  which  well  deserves 
to  rank  with  those  that  followed  the  religious  wars  of 


560  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  yi. 

the  sixteenth  century.*  The  Eussian  legislator  does 
not,  it  is  true,  altogether  proscribe  the  Jewish  worship, 
though  no  synagogue  is  permitted  in  any  place  where 
there  are  less  than  eighty,  and  no  public  prayer  in  any 
place  where  there  are  less  than  thirty,  Jewish  houses. 
Nor  does  he  absolutely  and  by  a  formal  measure  expel 
the  Jews  from  Russian  soil.  Such  a  step  has,  indeed, 
been  adopted  on  a  large  scale  in  1891  and  1892,  in  the 
case  of  the  poorer  Jews  of  foreign  nationality.  It  is 
estimated  that  these  number  about  150,000,  and  many 
of  them,  though  of  foreign  parentage,  had  been  born 
in  Russia,  had  lived  there  all  their  lives,  spoke  no 
language  except  Russian,  depended  absolutely  on  Rus- 
sian industries  for  their  livelihood,  and  desired  nothing 
more  than  the  naturalisation  which  was  refused  them. 
The  small  number  who  consented  to  abjure  their  faith 
were  suffered  to  remain.  Multitudes  of  the  others 
were  expelled  from  their  houses,  and  driven  like  cattle 
by  bands  of  Cossacks  across  the  frontier,  where  thou- 
sands have  perished  by  misery  and  cold.^ 

For  the  native  Jews  a  different  treatment  was  pro- 
vided. The  legislator  contented  himself  with  driving 
the  great  body  of  these  Jews,  including  several  hun- 
dreds of  thousands  of  persons,  out  of  an  immense  pro- 
portion of  the  territory  and  out  of  the  great  cities,  in 
which  they  had  long  lived  unmolested ;  confining 
them,  in  the  territory  in  which  they  were  allowed  to 
dwell,  to  the  overcrowded  towns  ;  banishing  them  by 
countless  restrictions,  disabilities  and  disqualifications 


'  An   excellent   summary    of  which  incite  Immigration  to  the 

these  laws  will  be  found  in  the  United  States  (1892),   pp.  149- 

report  of  Messrs.    Weber   and  165. 

Kempster  to  the  House  of  Re-  ^  See  Errera,  Les  Juifs  Rus- 

presentatives    of   the    U.S.A. :  ses  (1893),    pp.    40-43.      Com- 

Report    of     Oom,missioners    of  pare  the  remarks  of  Weber  and 

Immigration  upon  the    Causes  Kempster,  p.  165. 


CH.  n.  THE  RUSSIAN  PERSECUTION  661 

from  all  honourable  and  lucrative  posts,  and  from  a 
multitude  of  the  trades  and  occupations  in  which  they 
were  accustomed  to  earn  their  livelihood,  and  thus 
deliberately  reducing  them  to  such  a  depth  of  misery 
that  in  some  provinces  large  numbers  perished  by 
literal  starvation.' 

The  Jews  are  at  the  same  time  subject  to  a  number 
of  taxes  which  do  not  fall  upon  the  Christians.  Their 
offences  are  punished  by  special  laws  and  harsher 
penalties.  Their  military  service  is  more  severe  than 
that  of  Christians,  and  they  are  excluded  from  all 
the  higher  ranks  of  promotion.  They  are  pronounced 
aliens. by  the  law,  their  condition  is  regulated  by  spe- 
cial ordinances,  and  they  are  left  unprotected  to  the 
mercies  of  the  police. 

Bribes  as  well  as  penalties  are  employed  for  their 
conversion.  Every  adult  convert  is  rewarded  with  a 
gift  of  from  fifteen  to  twenty  roubles  from  the  State, 
and  every  child  convert  with  half  that  sum.  If  one 
partner  in  a  Jewish  marriage  adopts  the  orthodox 
faith,  that  partner  is  at  once  freed  from  the  marriage 
tie,  and  permitted  to  marry  a  Christian.  All  the 
children  under  seven  of  the  sex  of  the  convert  are 
compulsorily  baptized.  If  the  couple  elect  to  live  to- 
gether the  convert  must  sign  a  declaration  that  he  or 
she  will  endeavour  to  convert  the  other ;  and  if  such 
conversion  is  not  effected,  both  are  prohibited  from 
residing  outside  the  Jewish  pale.  Though  no  one,  ac- 
cording to  Russian  law,  can  perform  a  legal  act  under 
the  age  of  twenty-one,  Jewish  children  at  the  age  of 
fourteen  may  be  received  into  the  Orthodox  Church 
without  the  permission  of  their  parents  or  guardians. 

There  are,  it  is  true,  a  variety  of  exemptions,  some 


»  Errera,  Les  Juifs  Russes,  pp.  103-9. 
VOL.  I.  86 


562  DEMOCRACY  AND   LIBERTY  CH.  vi. 

of  them  resting  upon  regular  decrees,  but  a  large  part 
purely  arbitrary  and  precarious.  Wealthy  Jews  are 
able,  after  a  certain  number  of  years,  to  become  mem- 
bers of  what  is  called  the  First  Guild,  and  are  per- 
mitted by  the  payment  of  a  large  sum  to  purchase  the 
right  of  living  in  any  part  of  Eussia  ;  and  some  classes 
are  exempted  from  portions  of  the  code  on  account  of 
their  university  degrees,  or  of  the  practice  of  certain 
learned  professions.  Their  number,  however,  has  been 
carefully  limited  by  a  crowd  of  recent  enactments  re- 
stricting to  very  small  proportions  the  Jews  who  are 
admitted  to  the  universities  and  the  professional  train- 
ing schools,  and  in  many  other  ways  impeding  their 
education. 

A  more  important  exception  is  that  of  skilled  arti- 
sans, who,  under  the  system  of  passports,  annually  re- 
newed, are  permitted  to  reside  temporarily  outside  the 
pale.  Their  position,  however,  is  utterly  precarious. 
The  passports  may  be  at  any  time  withdrawn.  The 
permitted  trades  have  never  been  authoritatively  de- 
fined, and  the  limits  of  exemption  have  been  frequently 
and  arbitrarily  contracted.  ^  By  a  recent  enactment  the 
artisans  are  only  allowed  in  a  small  proportion  of  towns, 
where  their  industry  can  be  under  constant  supervision.^ 
If  through  age  or  infirmity  they  are  unable  to  work, 
they  are  at  once  banished  to  the  pale,  and  any  intermis- 
sion of  work  makes  them  liable  to  the  same  expulsion. 
It  has  been  a  common  practice,  write  the  American 
Commissioners,  '  to  visit  the  workshops  in  which  these 
artisans  were  employed  when  they  were  out  delivering 
work,  or  perhaps  on  a  holiday,  and  because  they  were 
not  found  actually  engaged  in  such  artisan's  work  at 


•  Frederic,  The  New  Exodus^  »  Errera,  p.  69. 

pp.  166-6a 


CH.  VI.  THE  JEWISH  ARTISANS  563 

the  time  of  the  visit,  they  were  reported  as  being  fraudu- 
lently enrolled  in  the  Artisans'  Guild,  and  thereupon 
expelled  to  the  pale.'^  In  many  cases  they  have  been 
expelled  simply  because  they  were  not  found  working 
on  their  own  Sabbath. ^ 

The  Jewish  artisan  outside  the  pale  may  bring  with 
him  his  Avife  and  children,  but  he  must  receive  no  other 
relatives,  not  even  his  father  or  mother,  in  his  hut.  He 
must  sell  nothing  outside  the  pale,  except  what  he  has 
himself  made,  and  under  this  rule  tailors  have  been 
expelled  because  the  buttons  on  the  coats,  and  watch- 
makers because  the  keys  of  the  watches  they  sold,  were 
not  of  their  own  manufacture.^  Their  wives  also  are 
under  the  severest  restrictions.  In  1891,  ten  wives  of 
Jewish  artisans  were  expelled  from  Kieff  because  they 
had  been  found  guilty  of  selling  bread  and  milk."* 
Among  the  exempted  trades  is  that  of  midwife,  and 
Jewish  midwives  are  permitted  in  all  parts  of  the  Em- 
pire, but  they  are  specially  forbidden  to  keep  their 
children  with  them  when  outside  the  pale.^  A  cha- 
racteristic provision  permits  the  Jewish  prostitute  to 
ply  her  trade  in  any  part  of  the  Empire.  Leroy-Beau- 
lieu  mentions  a  well-authenticated  case  of  a  poor  Jew- 
ish girl  who,  in  order  to  purchase  permission  to  learn 
shorthand  at  Moscow,  actually  took  out  the  yellow  pass- 
port of  a  prostitute,  but  was  shortly  afterwards  expelled 
by  the  police,  as  it  was  found  that  she  was  not  practis- 
ing the  permitted  trade.® 


»  Weber  and  Kempster,  p.  39.  mentions  '  two  perfectly  authen- 

'  Frederic,  The  New  Exodus.^  ticated  cases  of  young  Jewish 

.  248.  girls  of  respectable  families  and 

5  Weber  and  Kempster,  p.  39.  unblemished     characters     who 

*  Errera,  p.  73.  adopted  the  desperate  device  of 
Ibid.  pp.  72-73.  registering  themselves  as  pros- 

*  Errera,  p.  31.     Mr.  Frederic  titutes  in  order  to  be  allowed  to 


564  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  CH.  vi. 

In  spite  of  the  shackles  that  are  imposed  on  the  Eus- 
sian  press,  and  the  misrepresentations  of  official  writers, 
the  facts  of  this  persecution  have  been  largely,  though 
no  doubt  very  imperfectly,  disclosed.  The  Government 
of  the  United  States  rendered  a  great  service  to  history 
by  sending  two  singularly  competent  and  judicial  com- 
missioners to  study  on  the  spot  the  nature  and  the  cause 
of  a  persecution  which  drives  tens  of  thousands  of  Jew- 
ish emigrants  to  America.  Their  admirably  full  and 
temperate  report ;  the  excellent  work  in  which  Profes- 
sor Errera  has  collected  and  sifted  the  best  evidence 
relating  to  the  persecution  ;  the  writings  of  M.  Leroy- 
Beaulieu,  who  is  a  capital  authority  both  on  Eussian 
and  on  Jewish  questions,  and  a  few  well-informed  ar- 
ticles which  appeared  in  the  foreign  press,  have  brought 
together  a  vast  mass  of  well-authenticated  evidence,  and 
Mr.  Harold  Frederic  has  related  the  story  in  a  book 
which  is  founded  on  close  personal  investigation,  and 
which  is  one  of  the  most  powerful  and  most  terrible  of 
our  time. 

To  these  writers  I  must  refer  the  reader  for  the  de- 
tails of  a  persecution  which  far  exceeds  in  atrocity  any 
other  that  has  taken  place  in  Europe  in  the  nineteenth 
century.  It  cannot  be  measured  by  the  mere  letter  of 
the  law,  though  few  persons  who  have  examined  the 
new  code  will  doubt  that  it  was  deliberately  and 
methodically  constructed  with  the  object  of  driving 
the  great  bulk  of  the  Jewish  population  to  the  alter- 
native of  conversion,  starvation,  or  exile.  Still  more 
horrible  have  been  the  sanguinary  outbursts  of  popular 
fury,  often  connived  at,  if  not  instigated,  by  authority. 


remain  with  their  aged  parents      216).     See,    too,    p.   247,   and 
in  the    city   where    they   were      Weber  and  Kempster,  p.  42. 
born'    (^The   New    Exodus^    p. 


CH.  VI.  VIOLENCE   OF  THE  PERSECUTION  565 

the  brutal  acts  of  arbitrary  violence  by  which  the  per- 
secution at  every  stage  has  been  continually  accom- 
panied. 

If  the  reader  suspects  this  language  of  exaggeration, 
he  should  study  the  accounts  in  the  writers  I  have 
cited  of  the  police  raid  on  the  Jewish  quarter  of  Mos- 
cow, which  began  the  expulsion  of  the  Jews  from  that 
city  in  1891  and  1893,  when  more  than  700  men, 
women,  and  children,  who  had  committed  no  shadow 
of  offence,  were  dragged  from  their  homes  in  the  dead 
■  hour  of  the  night,  and,  in  the  extreme  cold  of  a  Eus- 
sian  winter,  first  taken  to  the  prison,  and  then  marched 
in  chains  out  of  the  city  and  summarily  exiled  to  the 
pale.^  He  should  read  the  account  of  the  Jewish 
settlement  of  Marina  Rostscha,  which  was  surrounded 
during  the  night  by  a  band  of  Cossacks  with  torches 
and  drawn  swords,  who  dragged  at  least  300  unsuspect- 
ing Jewish  families  from  their  beds,  and,  scarcely  giving 
them  time  to  dress,  drove  them  from  their  homes, 
through  the  woods  and  over  the  snow-covered  ground, 
beyond  the  limits  of  the  province.  Utter  ruin  natu- 
rally accompanied  the  persecution.  The  Jews  were 
cut  off  from  their  only  means  of  livelihood.  There 
was  a  wholesale  repudiation  of  debts  ;  and  this  was,  no 
doubt,  a  leading  motive  in  the  tragedy.  Those  who 
possessed  realised  property  were  prevented  from  re- 
moving it,  and  forced  to  sell  it  at  the  shortest  notice 
to  a  hostile  population,  usually  for  a  minute  fraction 
of  its  real  value.^    Multitudes  of  the  fugitives  perished 


1  The    official    paper    at    St.  289-92 ;  Weber  and  Kempster, 

Petersburg     denied     the     em-  pp.  47-51. 

ployment  of   chains,   but  it   is  '^  Some  striking  instances  of 

established     by    overwhelming  this  at  Moscow  are  given  in  The 

evidence.      See    Frederic,    pp.  New  Exodus^  pp.  222-28. 


666  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  vi. 

on  the  road  by  cold,  or  starvation,  or  fatigue.  Some, 
in  the  agony  of  their  distress,  found  a  refuge  in  suicide. 
Sick  Jews  in  the  extreme  of  suffering  were  repelled 
from  the  Christian  hospitals,^  and  tens  of  thousands, 
in  the  utmost  destitution  to  which  human  beings  can 
sink,  have  been  driven  from  their  country  to  seek  a 
refuge  among  strangers.  According  to  the  careful 
estimate  of  Mr.  Frederic,  in  the  single  year  which 
ended  in  October,  1893,  at  least  a  quarter  of  a  million 
of  Kussian  Jews  have  in  this  way  been  forced  into 
exile.  ^ 

Nowhere,  indeed,  in  modern  Europe  have  such  pic- 
tures of  human  suffering  and  human  cruelty  been  wit- 
nessed as  in  that  gloomy  Northern  Empire,  where  the 
silence  of  an  iron  despotism  is  seldom  broken  except 
by  the  wailings  of  the  famine-stricken,  the  plague- 
stricken,  and  the  persecuted. 

La,  sotto  giorni  brevi  e  nebulosi, 

Nasce  una  gente  a  cui  il  morir  non  duole. 

Nearly  half  of  the  Jewish  race  is  said  to  have  dwelt 
there,  and  their  persecution  is  no  modern  thing,  though 
in  the  multitude  of  its  victims  the  persecution  under 
Alexander  III.  has  transcended  all  that  preceded  it. 
The  causes  which  produced  the  anti-Semite  movement 
in  other  lands  existed  in  Eussia  in  peculiar  intensity, 
as  there  was  no  other  country  where  the  Jews  were  so 
numerous,  and  scarcely  any  where  the  Christians  were 
at  once  so  ignorant  and  so  poor.  The  charge  of 
Nihilism  was  made  much  use  of,  though  in  truth  but 
very  few  Jews  have  been  proved  guilty  of  conspiracy.^ 


'  Weber  and  Kempster, p.  41.  'Frederic   (pp.    118-19)    and 

'  The  New  Exodus,  pp.  283-      Errera  (pp.  144-45),  have  shown 

84.  the  very  small  number  of  Jewa 


CH.  VL  CAUSES  OF  THE  PERSECUTION  567 

An  evil  chance  had  placed  upon  the  throne  an  absolute 
ruler  who  combined  with  much  private  virtue  and  very 
limited  faculties  all  the  genuine  fanaticism  of  the  great 
persecutors  of  the  past,  and  who  found  a  new  Tor- 
quemada  at  his  side.  He  reigned  over  an  Administra- 
tion which  is  among  the  most  despotic,  and  probably, 
without  exception,  the  most  corrupt  and  the  most 
cruel  in  Europe  ;  over  a  people  with  many  amiable  and 
noble  qualities,  but  ignorant  and  credulous,  sunk  in 
poverty  far  exceeding  that  of  Western  Europe,  de- 
tached by  a  great  economical  revolution  from  their 
old  grooves  and  guiding  influences,  and  peculiarly  sub- 
ject to  fierce  gusts  of  fanatical  passion.  Among  the 
causes  of  the  great  Russian  persecutions  of  Polish 
Catholics,  of  Lutherans,  of  Eussian  dissenters,  and, 
above  all,  of  Jews,  much  has  been  ascribed  by  the  best 
observers  to  the  mere  greed  of  corrupt  officials  seeking 
for  blackmail  and  for  confiscations.  Much  has  been 
due  to  social  collisions ;  to  the  hatred  aroused  by  the 
competition  of  a  more  industrious,  more  intelligent, 
and  more  sober  race  ;  to  the  hatred  which  debtors  bear 
to  their  creditors ;  to  the  natural  tendency  of  op- 
pressed, ignorant,  and  poverty-stricken  men  to  throw 
the  blame  of  their  very  real  sufferings  upon  some 
isolated  and  alien  race.  Eeligious  fanaticism  also, 
which  has  a  deep  hold  over  the  Russian  nature,  and 
which  has  shown  itself  in  many  strange  explosions,  has 
borne  a  considerable  part.  But  probably  not  less 
powerful  than  any  of  these  motives  has  been  the  desire 
to  make  Russia  purely  Russian,  expelling  every  foreign 
element  from  the  Slavonic  soil.  It  is  a  feeling  which 
has  long  smouldered  in  great  strata  of  Russian  society. 


among  the  convicted  Nihilists,      various  charges  brought  against 
Errera  examines  very  fully  the     the  Russian  Jews. 


568  DEMOCRACY  AND  LIBERTY  ch.  vl 

and  to  which  the  Panslavist  movement  of  our  own  day 
has  given  a  vastly  augmented  power  and  scope.  Some 
of  the  most  disgraceful  apologies  for  the  savage  perse- 
cutions in  Kussia  have  come  from  writers  who  profess 
to  be  champions  of  nationalities,  ardent  supporters  of 
liberty  and  progress. 


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